


The Genie's Game

by EmpireMurderer



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Genie Jafar, Genie Swap, Jafar is not an idiot, Jasmine Does Not Get Pregnant, Mischievous Magical Beings, See? I Don't Have a Pregnant Jasmine Fetish, Trying Hard not to Make Aladdin a Dope, non-canon, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-04-25 20:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 75,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22336036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireMurderer/pseuds/EmpireMurderer
Summary: A red stream of smoke emitted out of the spout, growing out huge and cloudy until it took shape and revealed a giant red genie of immense muscle and sinister yellow eyes.Aladdin enters the Cave of Wonders and releases a genie. He's neither blue, silly or helpful. He's also not very nice.Canon divergence where the lamp Aladdin finds is Jafar's.
Relationships: Aladdin & Jasmine (Disney), Jafar/Jasmine (Disney)
Comments: 351
Kudos: 154





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to FrostedRaptor for the beta!

Aladdin didn’t know what a ‘diamond in the rough’ was but the Cave of Wonders seemed to think that he happened to be one. Passing through the mouth of the tiger, he heard the old man call from behind him.

“Bring me the lamp!”

Abu clung on to Aladdin as they walked through the eerie cavern until they entered an area glimmering in gold. Suddenly the monkey was scampering off his friend and in a mid-air dive to the gems.

“Stop, Abu!” Aladdin ordered.

Defying gravity for a few seconds, Abu halted in the air, gently placing his feet upon solid ground and scowled after the reminder not to touch anything but a lamp. Once again, he hitched a ride on Aladdin’s shoulder as they traveled deeper into the cave.

A carpet stirred underneath their feet as they passed over it causing them both to jump back in surprise. Aladdin bent down to inspect the rug, but upon further observation it was simply the wind sailing through the cavern fluttering the fringe that had spooked them.

“There’s no such things as flying carpets, Abu,” Aladdin told the monkey before traveling on. That didn’t stop Abu from shrieking insults at the inert material.

They came to a giant hollow where a tall cairn beheld a lamp lit up by a light emanating somewhere in the roof. The rocky steps looked precarious and Aladdin was careful as he climbed up to the prize. Once at the top, he paused at the sight of such an old artifact. Picking it up, he inspected it in curiosity. Black with gold markings, the lamp was heavier than Aladdin expected and had a sinister gleam to it.

“This is what the old man wanted?” Aladdin said, scratching his head in confusion. “Why _this_ lamp? It’s nothing but trash.” He turned around and looked down to the bottom of the cairn just in time to see Abu reaching out for a giant ruby.

“Abu, no!”

Pretending not to hear Aladdin, the monkey plucked the ruby from the statue.

The cave rumbled with anger. “_Infidels! You have touched the forbidden treasure! Now you will never again see the light of day!”_

Aladdin jumped down the steps towards Abu and grabbed him before a rock fell where the oblivious monkey once stood. The rocks at the entrance were the first to fall, blocking them in. Without any way of getting through the cavern, Aladdin and Abu took shelter under the cairn, hugging each other tightly in fear. Surprisingly, the cairn held strong as most of the cavern fell in around them, making escape seem even more impossible. After the dust had cleared, Aladdin looked towards the entrance but there was nothing but boulders standing in the way. He scurried around the rocks trapping them in, trying his hardest to move any of them, but found they were much too heavy. He slumped down in defeat.

“We’ll never get out of here, now,” he said sadly. Raising the lamp to his eye, he tapped on it in regret. “Why would that old man want this dingy thing anyway?”

The lamp jumped in his palms and Aladdin barely managed to grip it tight enough to prevent it from flying out of his hands. A red stream of smoke emitted out of the spout, growing out huge and cloudy until it took shape and revealed a giant red genie of immense muscle and sinister yellow eyes.

Aladdin and Abu gawked at the genie who stared back at them in silent expectancy until he leaned in closer to scrutinize them with an arched black brow. The intense gaze was broken only when the genie looked around his surroundings and frowned.

“A diamond in the rough trapped himself inside the cave of wonders,” the genie said mostly to himself. His voice was deep and resonated powerfully against the enclosed walls. It was exactly the voice Aladdin expected from him. “Just because you are worthy does not mean you are not a fool.”

The insult snapped Aladdin out of his stupor. “Hey! At least I wasn’t trapped in a stupid lamp!”

“It took many sorcerers and rulers to trick me into a lamp, dig out a magical cave and trap me in it for a several centuries,” the genie replied. “How many men did it take to trick you?”

Turning his pouting face away, Aladdin replied sourly, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Just as I thought,” the genie surmised. He glanced around the cave again before eyeing with interest the lamp Aladdin held.

“I’ve heard enough about genies to know that you can’t move the lamp of your own accord,” Aladdin chuckled, reading the genie’s obvious thoughts. “Unless I carry you out, you’re trapped in here with us.”

“A regretful situation,” the genie said, folding his massive arms across his chest. “You are aware you have three wishes, aren’t you? It would be wise for you to wish a way out of this cave.”

Aladdin snuck a look over at Abu, who nodded to Aladdin with the same idea. “Wait, you’re a powerful genie and you can’t even get us out of here?” Aladdin taunted. He shook his head in disbelief. “C’mon Abu, I guess we’ll have to find our own way.”

The genie huffed in response, no where close to taking the bait. He watched with disdain as Aladdin and the monkey pretended to inspect the rocks and climb along them as though they were finding other ways of escaping.

“It’s too bad there isn’t someone strong enough who could lift these rocks away,” Aladdin would periodically shout over to Abu. The monkey nodded his head and said something in his monkey dialect that sounded something like an insult.

“Only the strongest people alive could possibly move these rocks,” Aladdin continued, patting the boulders decidedly. “Yep. These babies ain’t goin’ nowhere unless someone with real muscles came along. You know, someone who didn’t have muscles just for show. Know what I mean, Abu?”

The red genie paid no mind as he floated in the air and stretched his massive frame from time to time after years inside the lamp.

Two and a half hours of complaining and one irritably hungry monkey later, Aladdin finally relented.

“Fine! I’ll waste a wish just to get us out of here!” he grumbled. “Couldn’t do it out of the goodness of your heart?”

“I was waiting for you to cave in,” the genie taunted, revealing a snippet of his humor while he enjoyed his own pun.

Aladdin picked up the lamp and sighed out heavily. “I would think you would want out of here just as much as we do.”

“I have been down here for centuries,” the genie scoffed. “I know how to keep myself distracted. And if you were willing to kill yourself to spite me, then my only mistake was not realizing how much of a fool you really were.”

Aladdin was ready to engage in an insult war but Abu was much too impatient for his next meal. He slapped at the boy, urging him to focus on the lamp. Aladdin glanced at the roof and made his first wish.

“I wish to be back in Agrabah,” he muttered in defeat. The genie smiled wickedly and clapped his hands twice. Aladdin felt his body shift and jolt, like moving quickly through water. He went dizzy with the sudden jaunt until several seconds later he was stopped very suddenly. He found his feet on solid ground though his body tumbled forward with the momentum. He fell to the floor with an ‘oof!’.

“This city is bigger than I remember,” the genie said as he surveyed his surroundings. They were on a rooftop in the middle of Agrabah City where they could see the huge palace atop the mountain.

Aladdin stood up and brushed himself off, glancing all around him in rising panic. “Where’s Abu?”

“Still inside the cave, of course,” the genie replied nonchalantly.

“Why is he still there?” Aladdin shouted in frustration. “I told you to bring us back to Agrabah.”

The genie shook his head and clucked his tongue several times. “No, your exact words were ‘I wish to be back in Agrabah.’ There was no mention of your monkey.”

“What the hell!”

“You’re fortunate to have ended up in the city. I could have taken you anywhere within the kingdom of Agrabah. It would do you well to learn to be more precise.”

“Bring Abu back, you genie jerk!”

“Once again, you’re not being very explicit,” the genie chastised, waving one finger at him in shame. “There are many abu’s in this city. To which one are you referring?”

Aladdin slapped his palm to his forehead and dragged it down his face in resentment. “I want my monkey back. Do you think you could do that?” he asked in a slow, controlled way.

“You should use your words carefully,” the genie reiterated, speaking as though to a child. “Do _you_ think you could do _that_?”

Aladdin eyed the genie in growing hate. He would have threatened him if the muscular djinn wasn’t so intimidating. “Fine. I will use my second wish. I wish that you would bring my monkey Abu, the one that was with me in the caves, back here alive and well, and no longer hungry.”

“As you wish,” the genie replied. “_Master_.” With a wave of his hand, the genie pointed to the ground next to Aladdin and a puff of smoke exploded above it revealing Abu with a bunch of bananas stuffed in his mouth. As soon as the shock wore off, the monkey erupted into wild shrieks of anger, swiping at the genie with his little ape hands. Aladdin grabbed him and held him back.

“You can’t go up against a mythical being,” Aladdin told him. “You’re just going to get yourself hurt.”

“Perhaps you should try though,” the genie taunted Abu with a smile.

Aladdin held Abu down until the monkey gave up and sauntered away with a scowl.

“By my rudimentary calculations, you have but one wish left,” the genie reminded him, picking at his sharp black nails in boredom. “Better make it a good one.”

“How do I know you won’t intentionally botch it up this time?”

“Forgive me, but have I not been giving you good advice about word choice?” the genie scorned. “You have only yourself to blame. Tell me what it is you want, boy. Do you desire riches? Power? Women?” By the way Aladdin’s eyes suddenly took a far away gaze, the genie knew he had discovered his weakness. “A-ha, it’s a woman, I see. I can give her to you.”

“You can make her fall in love with me?” Aladdin straightened up, finding sudden focus on the genie.

One side of the genie’s mouth dipped in a frown. “No, I cannot make anyone fall in love,” he replied. “Though I can make your chances exponentially better. Tell me about this girl and I will help you get close to her.”

“You promise?” Aladdin asked skeptically.

“Yes, yes, just tell me already,” the genie said, rolling his yellow eyes. “Who is this person?”

“She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!” Aladdin said, swooning with the memory of her. The genie figured that was the first thing the boy had locked onto. The young never looked beyond a pretty face.

“I’ll need more context than that.”

“I met her in the marketplace yesterday morning. She’s smart and funny, and oh my god, so hot…”

The genie huffed out in exasperation. All he wanted right now was for this boy to use his last wish so that he might find another master to wreak havoc on. Hopefully, someone dumb and impulsive enough who the genie could either cause instant misery or trick into making a wish in his favor.

“Fine, let’s just get on with this,” the genie declared. “Just make a wish and then slip my lamp into a politician’s office.”

“Hm, how can I get her attention?” Aladdin wondered. “The only way to see her would be if I were a prince…”

The genie’s ears perked up at the word. “The only reason you would need to be a prince is if the girl in question is…”

“That’s right,” Aladdin beamed. “She’s the princess!”

For once the genie was speechless. It took a moment for his mind to process and then slowly a sinister smile spread across his lips. “A princess? My dear boy, why didn’t you say so in the first place? If you were to wish to become a prince, all your dreams would immediately come true! You would have wealth, power and the woman of your dreams. Go on now, wish to become a prince.”

“Wait a minute,” Aladdin retorted, narrowing his eyes at the genie. “How do I know you’ll actually make my wish reasonable? For all I know you’ll make me the prince of thieves or something that won’t pertain to royalty at all.”

“Me?” The genie feigned offense. “My only wish, as your humble slave, is but to serve you, Master.”

“Yeah, I’d better be careful about how I phrase this one,” Aladdin mused. Abu jumped onto his shoulder and nodded his head in agreement.

The genie waited patiently as Aladdin paced the roof, figuring out how to make a wish without the genie using it against him. At long last, Aladdin turned and confronted the genie.

“For my last wish,” he said dramatically, causing the genie to inwardly sneer at the boy, “I wish to become a _royal _prince so that I may meet Princess Jasmine of Agrabah and we can love one another forever.”

“Your wish is my command.” The genie bowed low to Aladdin with his hand raised upward above his head. A puff of smoke poofed in the genie’s hand revealing a gold necklace with a key inside the jeweled locket.

“What the hell is this?” Aladdin inquired as he took the locket from the genie and inspected it suspiciously. “I asked to be a prince.”

“This will confirm that you are a prince,” the genie replied. “All that is required of you is to show it to the palace guards.”

“Hold on, is this some kind of trick?” Aladdin jeered. “If I show this to the guards, they’re not going to throw me in prison, are they? I was already locked away in the dungeon yesterday and there’s no damned way I’m going back in there.”

“I swear on my lamp that you will not be locked away in the dungeon,” the genie assured. His tone was sincere enough to sway Aladdin of it’s truth.

“Fine, but you’re coming with me. And if anything happens to me, I’ll throw your lamp into a fire.”

The genie arched a brow in response. Apparently this boy didn’t know about cursed, immortal objects and their inability to be destroyed. “Then that will be what I deserve,” he responded.

* * *

Aladdin and Abu walked up to the gates of the palace feeling their courage flitter away with each approaching step. There was no trust in the genie that this was going to work but at the moment there was no reason not to try.

One of the few things Aladdin had learned on the streets was that people tended to be swayed by others who showed any iota of authority, so he strut up to the nearest guard with an over-bearing saunter.

“Hello there, my fine fellow,” Aladdin called in a false baritone. “I require your assistance.”

“Get out of here, roadkill,” the guard mocked.

“Ooh!” Another guard suddenly perked up upon seeing Abu. “How much for the monkey?”

“Show them the damn locket,” Jafar said impatiently from within the lamp.

“Oh, uh-…” Aladdin stuttered, pulling the locket out of his pocket and nearly letting it slip out of his sweaty hands before catching it in the air. “I have here this locket, you see…” He had no idea what else to say about it. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to. The guards glanced at it and then were immediately entranced. They came in closer, bent over at the waist to more closely inspect it.

“Is that what I think it is?” the first guard asked in awe.

“I think it is!” the second guard replied. They both suddenly stood at attention, saluting Aladdin and then hopping towards the gate. With a hard pull, the first one opened the door and the second waved Aladdin through.

“Please follow me to the main entrance,” the second guard said excitedly. “We’ll meet with the Sultan immediately.”

* * *

Aladdin felt under-dressed as he was escorted through the palace in his ragged clothes. Abu was perched on his shoulder taking stock of all the expensive things just sitting around for the taking.

They entered a giant throne room that was entirely empty except for a small, fat man sitting on the elephant throne and a royal vizier to his right. The vizier, a balding short man in blue robes, was arching a brow at Aladdin curiously.

“Why, who might this be?” the Sultan asked in interest. He hopped off his chair and circled Aladdin in curiosity. “We don’t usually get visitors this hour. Especially ones wearing just a vest for a shirt and carrying a monkey. Er, what’s with the lamp?”

“Your highness,” Aladdin squeaked. He coughed into his fist before trying again with more success. “Your highness, I have brought you something.” He held out the locket in the palm of his hand.

Both the Sultan and the royal vizier stared at it like they were suddenly brought under hypnosis.

“It can’t be!” the vizier exclaimed.

“It is!” the Sultan replied giddily. He took the locket from Aladdin and opened it, taking out a key. From within his own robes, the Sultan brought out a locket of his own. He inserted the key into the locket hanging around his own neck and a click followed. Suddenly the locket opened and a note was revealed inside. The Sultan couldn’t open it fast enough. Holding out in front of him, the Sultan read the note while the Vizier stood behind him. Both their eyes traveled back and forth across the paper simultaneously.

“Oh, my!” the Sultan said in wonderment. “Oh, my! A prince!”

The Vizier grabbed the Sultan by the arm and pulled him away for a moment. Though he was speaking under his breath to the Sultan, Aladdin could hear everything that was said. “This seems preposterous. How do we know he’s really the prince?”

“Lighten up, Omar,” the Sultan complained, pulling away from him. “Of course, he’s the prince!” The Sultan came to Aladdin with open arms. “My dear boy! Welcome, welcome! Let’s get you more suitable! But first, what is your name?”

“Uh, Ala-…Ali, your majesty,” Aladdin answered, deciding that instance to adopt a different name. “Prince Ali.”

“Wonderful!” the Sultan said. “It’s a strong name, Ali. My dear boy, I am so glad to have you here! I’ve always wondered if we would ever meet, but here you are! Oh, happy day!”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“First we’ll get you looking like a prince, and then we’ll have your new chambers ready for you. Oh, you’ll like living in the palace! And then later tonight, you can tell me and your sister all about your life! It’ll be nice to have someone else at the dinner table every night.”

“Sorry, what?” Aladdin sputtered. “My what?”

“Your sister, Princess Jasmine. Won’t she be happy to know her long lost brother has been found? But you will have plenty of time to meet her later. Someone get this boy a bath and clothes!”

Aladdin was ushered away as quickly as the servants could push him. In a deep stupor, Aladdin was bathed, clothed and shown to his rooms, all without him being able to form a sensible thought to the present. There was only one phrase circling madly through his mind.

_That fucking genie!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. I'll try to get something more out later this week.

Jasmine swirled her fingers through the water as she stared into the fountain with heavy eyes set in boredom. She glanced over at the tree near the palace wall where she had been able to secret away on occasion.

No, the last time she had done so, it almost cost a young boy his life. Thankfully, Omar listened to her before he could send Aladdin to prison on kidnapping charges. According to the Grand Vizier, he had released the boy back onto the streets and that was the end of it.

She felt guilty about having caused more problems for Aladdin, who not only had enough of his own, but risked his neck to save her from losing a hand. The thought that she could reach out to him in thanks and apology crossed her mind, however she didn’t want to trouble the guards into looking for him in the city, especially since Aladdin proved to be evasive.

Not wanting to bring more complications, she decided it wasn’t worth sneaking out anymore and was back to being ceaselessly bored, finding fun in the only activity available to her; offending would be suitors.

“Oh, Jasmine!” her father shouted to her. She looked over and saw him skittering her way with his arm raised in the air for her attention. He was as happy as usual, which meant he could be calling to her for any number of things. He might have solved the education problem. Perhaps he found a strange colored bug. It could be anything.

“Hello, father,” she answered, rising from her sitting position with little energy.

“Oh, Jasmine, I have wonderful news to tell you!” the Sultan grabbed her hands and looked up at her with a bounce to his feet. He did seem more excitable than usual.

Behind the Sultan, Jasmine caught sight of the Grand Vizier Omar gazing back at them with a frown to his face. She considered Omar a rational person who remained stoic in the face of trouble, which made the doubt he gave off seem frightening in a way.

“What is it, father?” Jasmine asked suspiciously.

* * *

Inside the lamp, the genie was laughing hysterically to himself. He felt the call to transport out and he couldn’t even be bothered to conceal his grin when faced with Aladdin.

The boy was in white princely clothes and smelling much rosier than previously. Even his monkey looked like he’d been given a thorough cleaning. Aladdin’s mood was certainly more soured though as he stared at the genie with arms crossing his chest and a broad scowl upon his face.

“What the hell, genie?” Aladdin berated. “You said you would be reasonable with my request!”

“What is all this complaining I hear?” the genie answered with a hand curved around his ear. “I fulfilled your wish to the letter. You are now a _royal_ prince who has the opportunity to get close to the princess. Romance is fleeting. There’s no stronger, everlasting bond than sibling love. I did you a favor.”

“Is that what you call it, you jackass! Why can’t you just grant a single wish without making a mockery of it? I’m all out of wishes now,” Aladdin sulked. He slumped down on a couch and put his face into his hands. Abu came to pat him on his back in sympathy.

A knock at the door stymied him to rise in panic. The genie flew back into his lamp just as the door opened.

“Hello?” a voice called. Princess Jasmine came hesitatingly into the room. “Prince Ali?”

Aladdin frantically pulled his turban low over his head as he came to greet her. “Why, hello there!” he replied in his falsetto. “You must be Princess Jasmine!”

Jasmine froze with her gaze fixed in confusion. Her sight flickered over to Abu, who donned his fez politely at her. “I-I’m looking for Ali?” she replied hesitantly. “That’s you?”

“Sure is!” he exclaimed forcefully. Aladdin grabbed her hand and shook it hard, jostling her out of her hesitation. “Glad to meet you!”

She turned her head in scrutiny, glancing at different points of his face. “Have…Have we met before?” she asked in bewilderment.

“Why, no, of course not!” Aladdin answered, his voice somehow managing to go deeper.

“Huh, strange. You remind me of a boy I met in the marketplace.”

“Marketplace?” Aladdin scoffed. “I don’t ever go to the marketplace. That place is for thieves. Not, you know, rich, royal citizens like me.”

Jasmine cocked a brow at him, glanced again at his monkey, and slowly nodded all the same. “I guess that was someone else.” She instantly changed her demeanor, starting with giving him a beaming smile. “Anyway, It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry we didn’t get to grow up together, but we have time now to gain the bond we should have had all along, right? Are you ready to go to dinner? I would be pleased if you would accompany me.”

“Uh,” Aladdin faltered, shooting a look at the black lamp sitting on the table. “Give me just a second. I’ll be down soon.”

“Okay,” Jasmine said as she turned towards the door. “I hope you like lamb. Be prepared for a lot of questions. My father is dying to know why you’re only just now coming back to claim your heritage.” The minute the door closed behind her then the genie emerged from his lamp.

“Me too!” Aladdin accused the genie, pointing his finger at him with menace. “I’ve got a lot of questions myself!”

“Just lie your way through life,” the genie shrugged. “Isn’t that what you’ve always done?”

“Just…what the hell was that whole locket business?”

“The locket isn’t nearly so strange as your sudden desire to be called Ali. I’m confused as to why you didn’t tell them your real name.”

“Because I was supposed to be a prince! Not a long lost homeless brother! I didn’t want Jasmine to think I was a street rat!”

“Might I remind you that you are a street rat…”

“Tell me what’s up with the damned locket, you giant, red hemorrhoid!”

The genie had his arms folded across his massive chest, almost as if in thought as to whether to tell the boy the truth or not. He finally shrugged and began to explain.

“Before the Sultan was married, his future wife, the princess of a land far from here, had been carrying out an illicit affair with a clerk from her kingdom. She found out she was pregnant the day her marriage to the Sultan was arranged. For months she kept the pregnancy a secret, even from the clerk, telling only her handmaiden of the news. She and her handmaiden traveled to Agrabah before the wedding, keeping her pregnancy hidden by having the princess wear loose clothing and decreeing that no one could see her until the day she wed. A week before the wedding, in a room inside the palace, the future Sultaness secretly gave birth to a baby boy. The handmaiden clothed the boy and slipped a locket with a key around him before placing him in front of an orphanage in the dead of night. The future queen carried on as though nothing had happened for years.

“Much later, when the queen lay on her death bed with sickness, she trusted the Sultan enough to tell him about her transgressions. The Sultan was quite in love with her and felt she could never do wrong. He took the locket she kept around her neck and promised her that he would take good care of the boy if he ever showed up. And now, here you are!” the genie said suddenly congenial. “The long lost prince they’ve all been waiting for!”

“What?” Aladdin remarked in confusion. “Is that even true? I’m the son of a princess?”

“I believe you’re missing the point,” the genie answered. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not. You are a prince now and can live as such to the end of your days! I must tell you though, that as the bastard son of a princess to a different realm, you have no declaration to the throne.”

Another knock at the door cut off anything Aladdin wanted to say. “Prince Ali!” a servant called. “You are expected to dinner soon!”

“All right! On my way!” Aladdin shouted back. He turned to the genie, grabbing the lamp off the table. “I’ll deal with you later.” The genie simply rolled his eyes as he was bidden into the lamp. Aladdin dropped the lamp roughly back onto the table hoping the genie felt it before making his way down to the dining room.

* * *

Jasmine had been ready to assess her ‘brother’ before dinner and hoping to use her logic to out him as an imposter in front of her father, but that idea came to a halt as soon as she recognized Aladdin. He was the last person she had expected, and by the way he was carrying himself, it was the last thing he seemed to have expected too.

She quietly watched him and his monkey scarf down the food like starving horses.

“Tell us everything about yourself!” the Sultan demanded joyously when Ali sat down to eat.

“Oh, uh…where to start?” he stammered, clearly stalling for time. “Let’s see, I’m just a guy, you know. Like you. But not like you! Because why would I know? I’ve only just met you both today.”

Jasmine was bewildered by his response. Who was he kidding? He was definitely the homeless boy named Aladdin she had met in the marketplace a few days ago. She wondered if there was some kind of elaborate prank going on.

“Well, then boy,” the Sultan prodded. “Why don’t you tell me where you grew up? What part of the city did you call home all these years?”

“Um, well, all over, really. I kept moving around. But not in the marketplace on the main square! I’ve never been there.” Aladdin was a terrible liar. Just terrible.

Jasmine gave him a once over. If he hadn’t been so handsome and charming, she doubted he would have made it this far into the lie that he was a prince. She couldn’t understand why he was acting this way though, when he had been so clever and quick the day she had met him. She had taken a liking to him in the city, but at the moment, her reservations were on high alert.

At least she didn’t have to wonder what happened to him in the aftermath when he was accused of kidnapping her. It seemed since then he managed to come back with proof of his royal heritage. Of course, none of it added up in her mind.

“Why did you not come back to the palace when you learned of your heritage, my boy?” the Sultan inquired. “Why live out on the streets?”

“Oh, well, I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me around and all since, you know, I’m not your son…” While he wasn’t very good at telling lies, Jasmine thought, she could at least tell that somehow he meant well. What was even stranger was how he acted like he had somehow been thrust into this situation with no warning at all. Like her, it was as though he hadn’t even known about the locket until that afternoon either.

His story escaped suspicion by everyone else but she was sure there was something strange going on. It didn’t take a keen mind to know Ali was not who he said he was. She just happened to have the luxury of actually knowing his true identity.

“Well, I’m glad you came to your senses,” she told Ali, showing that she was a much more convincing liar. “You are more than welcome here. I’m so glad to have a sibling.”

“Yeah,” Ali concurred with a sadness to his voice. “Me too.”

* * *

After dinner, the Sultan insisted that Ali take a walk out in the gardens with him. “Coming, my dear?” the proud papa asked his beloved daughter.

“Not tonight, father,” she replied. “I’m feeling rather tired so I think I’ll retire early.”

“All right, then. But no more sneaking out! I’ll have a heart attack if you should disappear again!”

Yes, father,” she obeyed with some resentment. Twenty-one years old and never allowed to leave the palace. In a way she envied Aladdin who had lived outside the palace all his life.

Jasmine went towards her room but cut through the hall before her wing and snuck down the empty corridor. Approaching Ali’s new chambers, Jasmine snuck in and quietly closed the door behind her. She looked around but it was sparse since the boy had nothing to his name when he claimed his place in the palace. Except for one thing.

Jasmine approached the black lamp cautiously. It was old and eerie looking. She was sure Aladdin didn’t have it with him a few days ago. She would have remembered seeing such an archaic looking thing.

A noise outside in the hall prompted her into action. She grabbed the lamp and ran to the door, peeking out until the servants walking past were out of sight, then she hightailed back to her room with her stolen good.

* * *

The genie was meditating inside his lamp when he felt himself drawn out by a rub.

“Always when I am in my deepest concentration…” he complained. He solidified from smoke inside a dark room lit only by the flames from within a giant fireplace. Flexing his muscles, he was at least glad to be out of his prison.

“I would be happier if you would simply toss me inside one of the chambers of a reprehensible politician now that you have access-” the genie was cut short when he turned around and looked below where someone who was not Aladdin stared up at him with an unreadable expression.

Silence filled the air as the young woman took in the sight of him, her eyes darting all over his face and hands, sometimes lingering on his muscular frame.

The genie had nothing to say. This was not the response he was used to. Most people cowered in fear at his appearance, but this woman was judging him. He folded up his arms and puffed out his chest, furrowing his brows in annoyance. To his dismay, this did not seem to intimidate her at all.

“Who are you?” he barked. As soon as his last word was uttered, she held up the lamp and he was pulled back in. He cursed all the way back inside, but for the first time in centuries his curiosity was piqued.

Who was that woman?

* * *

Jasmine breathed out heavily once the genie was imprisoned in the lamp again. By Allah, he was a masterful work of art. She had never seen muscle stacked on a man quite like it was on this mythical being. She had once seen a workhorse with bulging muscles similar to the genie’s but she was convinced that horse had nothing compared to this magical creature she currently held trapped in a lamp.

She now knew how Aladdin had found the means to become a prince. Why he would wish to be her brother seemed awfully strange, but then again, some genies were known to be mischievous. Having glimpsed the genie, she figured she would have to do a little research if she was going to stay one step ahead of him. Aside from his terrifying stature, he radiated a certain intelligence that got her wondering. Regardless of the fact he was a rare commodity, it was this particular genie that had her intrigued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I hope you all know that I appreciate every one of them from the bottom of my heart.


	3. Chapter 3

Aladdin slammed the door shut to his chambers, glad to be back alone with just Abu.

“Man, the Sultan sure does talk a lot,” Aladdin said, rubbing his fingers along his forehead. His attention was pulled to Abu when the monkey squeaked and jumped in the air, pointing frantically at the empty table.

“The lamp!” Aladdin went to the table and patted the top like the lamp had turned invisible. Getting on all fours, Aladdin scoured the room without any success. “Where is it? That genie knows for sure I’m not a prince! What if he tells everyone?”

Abu started stashing anything he could inside his vest.

“No, we’re not leaving until we find out what happened to the lamp,” Aladdin chastised. “Let’s go see if we can find someone lurking around the palace with it. Otherwise, we’ll know soon enough who took it when their wishes start causing mayhem.”

* * *

There were two places that Jasmine kept most of her time; her room and the library. She was headed to the latter at that late hour because the few seconds with the genie had caused her adrenaline to spike. There was no sleep for her soon, especially not while his lamp lay so close.

As she crossed the courtyard towards the administration building, she could hear frantic whispering coming from the side of the building.

“Eee, eee!”

“No, _you_ shut up! You should have stayed in the room and guarded the lamp!”

Jasmine turned the corner on Aladdin holding Abu up in the air far from his face as the monkey tried to slap him with his little paws.

“Can I help you with something, Ali?” she asked. Immediately, Abu and Aladdin stood at attention, pretending nothing was going on.

“Jasmine! I, uh…”

“What lamp are you talking about?” she asked, wanting to catch him further off guard. He was an open book as far as she was concerned, easily read through his expressions.

“Lamp?” he stuttered. “I don’t know anything about a lamp. Do you know anything about a lamp, Abu?”

Abu shrugged his shoulders and feigned ignorance.

Jasmine hesitated. She was determined to either make him tell the truth or ease his mind of the missing lamp. She tried prompting him again. “I’m sure I heard you talking about a lamp. Would you like me to have someone bring one to your room? Maybe some candles?” She could see him grow more nervous as he looked to his monkey for guidance. She figured perhaps it would be best to be very specific. “Unless you were just talking about a fictional lamp, like from a book…?”

Aladdin looked up at her with the idea hooked into his mind. The only things missing from his demeanor was a snap of his fingers and a shout of ‘I got it!’

“Yes! The lamp! From the book!” he said, again looking to Abu who nodded his head and shot Aladdin a thumbs up. “Yeah, Abu and I were just talking about that story about the genie. But, funny thing… we can’t remember how it ends?”

“I know all the genie stories,” Jasmine encouraged. “Which story are you talking about?”

“Er…” Aladdin paused, looking to Abu for help. “I guess the one about the disappearing genie lamp?”

“Hmm, there are several of those,” Jasmine lied. “Can you elaborate?”

“There are?” Aladdin said in surprise. “Well, it’s the one about the lamp that disappeared after some guy used up his three wishes.”

“Where did the man find the lamp?”

“In some kind of enchanted cave.”

“Ah, right,” she pretended to remember, “that’s the story of the lamp that disappears after being used and reappears back in the cave for the next person to find.”

“Huh,” Aladdin thought on it. “Yeah, that’s gotta be it! Thanks, Jasmine!”

“You’re welcome. It’s rumored that story is based on a real genie.” She laughed and dismissed the idea with a swat of her hand. “But there’s no such thing as genies.”

“Right,” he added with a half-hearted chuckle. “Genies don’t exist.”

“Anyway, have a nice night, Ali,” she smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“All right, Jasmine,” he responded. His bedroom eyes got heavier as he watched her leave. She was uncomfortable with his blatant stare now that they were supposedly siblings. In the marketplace, she had been caught up with his fun and adventurous side, however it was quite clear that their levels of maturity held wide gaps. Jasmine attempted to put him back in his place, shooting him down with only three words.

“Good night, brother.”

Behind her she could hear him groan in discontent.

* * *

There was an entire system of rules that existed inside the lamp which was inexplicable to anyone with any semblance of a scientific mind. The dimensions inside expanded far beyond the parameters of the vessel. The genie had created a world for himself that involved a mansion of luxury, oceans of gold, and rooms glittering with diamonds. He could freeze snapshots in time, manipulate matter, and fabricate lanterns of every color to fill a black void like a night sky. However there were limits that meant he could not create life nor nature. His world, though relaxing and elegant, was void of any natural thing and any natural light.

It was bleak and and it was lonely.

At the moment he was sitting on a large pillow, elbows rested on his knees, with thumbs touching his middle fingers. Behind his closed eyes he saw her. The mysterious woman.

Never had anyone found him and not immediately engaged him for their prize. The dynamic usually was that once someone’s fear of him wore off, he was then called slave and forced to do their bidding. Humans only wanted what they didn’t deserve and they never considered the consequences for asking. Sometimes the genie didn’t even have to alter the wishes to cause problems for the wisher.

He thought of her and for the first time felt a sense of disturbance. He tried to shut her out of his mind, but it was impossible. Her presence had stirred too much of his thoughts.

At long last, after what seemed like a full day of waiting, he felt the pull. The genie braced himself for what lay outside the lamp.

* * *

Jasmine was determined not to give the genie any read on her. She made sure the only light was from the fire behind her as she rubbed the lamp in the silence of her chambers. He floated out in a red fog, forming into something like a man, though none like she’d ever seen. She could tell he had been waiting for her. As soon as he was whole, he crossed his arms and stared at her with those threatening eyes.

The night before she hadn’t known what to expect. His appearance had been shocking enough that she could not properly size him up. Now she sat in her oversized chair, making sure to note everything about him. Triangular earrings dangled from his earlobes, his trimmed beard thickly lined his strong jaw. A purple sash was his only form of clothing, transitioning his massive frame into the metaphysical attachment to the lamp. And last, her gaze went to the gold cuffs manacling him to his prison, which glinted in the firelight so that anyone would know he was their captive to abuse.

“Three wishes,” the genie said in his most authoritative tone. “And no wishing for more wishes.”

“Do you prefer to be called genie,” she said. “Or Jafar?”

The mention of the name caused his stomach to burn like a whirlwind of fire within. It had been so long since he’d heard it, let alone been called that, that he had almost forgotten it was once the name he answered to.

He stared intensely down at her. The wheels of his mind working hard to formulate an assessment of her. It was useless. He had never encountered someone like her before.

She was not burdened by his mean glare. Well aware that he could not harm a master, she decided the best way to keep him in line in the future was to command respect from the very beginning.

“If you do not answer me, then you shall be referred to as ‘genie.’”

“Jafar,” he huffed irritably with no other follow-up.

“Very well then, Jafar,” she replied, keeping the lamp close to her chest like a shield.

“Three wishes, master,” he told her, turning his back on her. He wanted to be rid of her quickly. Without knowing the kind of woman she was, it was impossible to determine if she could be tricked into carrying out his selfish desires. Better to have her make her wishes and pass him on to someone more gullible.

“I’d appreciate it if you referred to me as Jasmine.”

He paused in veiled surprise. “Hmm…” he mused, cocking a brow at her from over his shoulder. “The princess.”

“Let me reiterate. Jasmine will suffice.”

Jafar narrowed his eyes at her. Her demands were rigid but unpracticed. He didn’t notice till now that she was not used to speaking this way. He would have moved in for closer inspection of her except that she would likely not freeze in fear like others normally did. He would find himself back in his lamp not knowing if this indomitable woman would ever allow him to come out.

“Jasmine,” he said, testing it out on his tongue.

His voice came out in a deep and guttural growl. It stimulated a physical sensation in a completely irrational part of her body. She tightly crossed her legs to stifle it. 

“You’ve got quite a history,” Jasmine said, taking a book from off the table beside her and opening up to a marked page. “Former Grand Vizier, powerful sorcerer, said to be the most intelligent man in the world at the time…

“I don’t need you to remind me of my past. Wish for your desires and leave me be.”

Jasmine frowned in disappointment. She glanced at the page and refocused back on him. “It says here that you possess a wicked sense of humor.”

“And you think that gives me entertainment value for your sake?” he asked in rising anger. He turned around to face her, gripping his hands on the armrests of her chair, leaning over as close to her as he could in an attempt to intimidate. “Make your wishes. Return me to the lamp. That is all.”

His teeth were sharp like a cat’s as he snarled his words at her. She felt his breath on her skin but remained rooted in her chair without a change in her expression. She was determined not to let him bully her.

“The only wise wish to make is to ensure you never fulfill another wish again,” she replied.

His eyes went wide and he backed off in confusion. Jafar returned to scrutinizing her, unsure what to make of her statement. She had definitely touched a nerve.

Jasmine stood up and began to circle him, surveying him from every angle as he monitored her closely from above.

“Your humor is most notable when you grant a wish. History is riddled with wishes gone wrong or taken out of context,” she said as she walked around him. He stood as still as a statue while he listened to her except for his head which he angled towards her at all times. “It took over a century and many masters to realize that a wish granted was a suffering made. All of them cowards, weren’t they? Not one of them used their wishes to free you from the bonds. They decided to gamble their very precise words against your wit.” She reached out to the red mist emanating from the lamp, connecting him to it like a tail. Her fingers swirled through it but he could feel it as though she had touched his flesh. “By the time it was decided to hide your lamp, there were either no more wishes left to give, or they were too frightened of allowing someone else use of your magic. It took many people to fabricate a cavern deep in the desert, with magical safeguards in place, just to hide your prison. Only a diamond in the rough could open it to potentially free the world of you, however, while the spell allowed one who was pure of heart to enter, it did not guarantee that person would be wise. It was Aladdin who entered the cave, wasn’t it?”

The genie had been so focused on her words that he almost missed her question. He nodded affirmatively.

“Does he have any wishes left?”

“No.”

“I guess it takes more than a selfless person to make the right choice.”

“And you think you’re that person?” he sneered. “Go ahead. Release me from the binds and pretend to be the savior this kingdom needs if that’s what makes you feel good about yourself.”

He finally caught a glimmer of aggravation in her expression. Inwardly he smiled. Perhaps he could manipulate her after all.

“You want someone to wish for your freedom. It’s not your freedom I would give you.”

He frowned and crossed his arms, glancing to the ceiling in frustration. “Death would be just as welcome,” he replied.

He was not lying but he didn’t like that she would have the satisfaction. He told himself it shouldn’t matter since he would finally be getting what he desired.

“First, I want to know everything about you, Jafar,” she said, sitting back down in her chair. Again, his name sounded almost foreign, like it belonged to someone else.

“It seems you really do intend to use me for your entertainment,” he replied in disgust. “You have your books. That should be all you need to know who I am.”

She opened up a book and began to read. “From the written tales of the kingdom presiding over the realm at that time, the genie Jafar was once a man who served as Grand Vizier to the Sultan Hamish. As a man, Jafar was known to be the wisest in the land, however he coveted power unlike any other. For his treasonous acts upon the crown, including an attempt upon the Sultan’s life, he was cast into exile, but his corruption ran deep. Taking revenge, Jafar made it known he was a skilled sorcerer and summoned the army of the dead to overthrow the monarchy. With the combined power of every military and magic-wielder known in the five kingdoms, Jafar was finally defeated. Because of his greed for power, as punishment he was turned into a genie to have infinite power only through subjugation. The first man to use the magic of the genie was the employer he betrayed, Sultan Hamish.”

Jasmine closed the book and held it up to him so he could read the title: Mythical Tales of the Five Kingdoms.

“No wonder it was inaccurate,” Jafar retorted.

“Oh?” Jasmine prodded. “What inaccuracies did you note?”

“I certainly did not summon an army of the dead. Also, there was no mention of the atrocities performed by Sultan Hamish. I would think that would be written in the history books as well.”

“As you are aware, history is written by the winners. There is no mention of any atrocities.”

“A shame. His name should have been smeared through mud for all time. What exactly is said about him?”

“Not much. He died four centuries ago. The only thing that he is known for was being the last of the Hamish line,” Jasmine answered. “Surely, you must have known that.”

Jafar smiled wickedly, finally revealing that sense of humor for which he was known. “Oh, I know all about that.”

“A wish gone wrong, perhaps?”

“He had it coming.”

“What about Sultan Shafik and all the rulers that came after him? There was a long decade where each year was ruled by a different man. It was said the government at the time was unstable, however it’s also been theorized that a mythical being caused every demise due to his master’s wishes.”

“I don’t even remember half of their names,” Jafar waved dismissively. “The wish to be sultan has been the predominate desire since the beginning of my servitude. There are many more than a decades worth of men who have wished for such a thing.”

Jasmine opened to another page and placed her finger on a paragraph. “It says here that there have been many self-proclaimed sultans in the centuries before. One was the sultan of a small oasis in the middle of nowhere. Another was the sultan of asses, where he was followed by donkeys wherever he went. Then there was the sultan of swing. A man who was always experiencing vertigo except when he was on a swing.”

“They never said what they wanted to be sultan _of_,” Jafar laughed. “Is there mention of a sultan of cats?”

“The sultan of cats,” Jasmine read. “A man who was stalked by every cat within a ten kilometer radius. He happened to be allergic to cats.”

Jafar hid his mouth behind his fist and chuckled to himself.

“Would you like to hear more?” she asked. Bemused, he nodded his head and prodded her to continue. “All right. It was rumored that the plague was started due to a wish asking for the death of the entire royal family living in the palace at the time.”

Suddenly, Jafar’s smile faded.

“It was also said that the original palace built on the hilltop was destroyed by a wish that it be given to the mother of the wisher. My guess is it had not occurred to the wisher that instead of bringing his mother to the palace, you had brought the palace to her.”

“People need to learn to be more specific,” he replied.

“Or less selfish maybe,” she retorted. “I don’t think it’s the words they say that cause your misinterpretation of them.”

“It would be wiser for none of them to have trusted me.”

“None of them?” Jasmine challenged. She began to read again. “Reports of others, knowing the wrath of the genie, made desperate wishes met with unlikely benevolence. One such man, after his first two wishes were squandered by tricks the genie pulled, used his last wish to give his dying mother one grand meal to cease her physical suffering. The genie granted the request by giving the mother a wonderful banquet of comforting and exotic foods. There was so much food that the banquet was shared with every family, friend and neighbor. Immediately afterwards her ailments were gone and she lived forty years longer than expected. Her son, expecting the genie to have taken his mother’s life after her feast, was grateful for his mercy.”

Jafar turned his back on Jasmine, hiding his face and feeling embarrassment color him even more red. To his humiliation, she went on.

“Reports of benevolence go on. A poverty-stricken mother found wealth after developing a new skill when she simply wished for the use of her arthritic hands again. She was not only able to feed her children but also make enough money to send them to school and to buy a proper burial ground for her dead husband.”

“Sounds made up,” the genie snarked from over his shoulder.

“A river was redirected near a poor town so that the people could have clean drinking water and nourishment for their crops. Today it is known as Djinnda in thanks to the genie who many town members credited for the miracle.”

“If that story were true,” Jafar answered with a surly growl, “then it could have been any genie.”

“While most people consider genies to be a myth, only two have been credited with actual historical events. One was blue and said to be rather silly in nature. The other was a giant red genie of a terribly imposing stature. It is from the accounts of the red genie that I am reading from this book.”

“If you’re not going to make a wish then send me back to my lamp and do not disturb me again,” he huffed, refusing to look at her.

There was a pause while Jasmine took his request in consideration. “First, what exactly did Aladdin wish for?”

Jafar sighed deeply before responding. “His exact words were: ‘I wish to become a _royal_ prince so that I may meet Princess Jasmine of Agrabah and we can become close enough to love one another forever.’”

“And then you turned him into my long lost brother, changing history so that it looked like my beloved mother was a whore.”

“All queens are whores.”

Jasmine’s anger welled in her chest but she stayed calm. “You’re upset but it’s not about anything to do with me.”

“If I were upset then it has more to do with this ridiculous attempt at an interrogation than any insight you think you might possess.”

“I think this has less to do with my mother and more to do with some supposed betrayal against you, otherwise why else would you be getting so agitated?”

“Supposed betrayal?” He glanced at her with his fists tightened at his sides. “I was deceived by my king, cheated out of my fortune, and abused by every person I’ve come in contact with. There is nothing supposed about it.”

“And so in your biased convictions, you assume every queen, including my mother, is a whore?”

The genie turned around fuming in ire. “Who’s to say she wasn’t? For all I know she was simply another spoiled princess like every other royal idiot I have ever encountered. Present company included!”

Jasmine lifted the lamp and Jafar was sucked back in with a stream of expletives sailing out of his mouth, continuing even after he was imprisoned inside.

Jasmine sat back in her chair, exhaling in relief. The genie was more troublesome than she had anticipated. At no point did she feel safe around him. He was terrifying to behold, both in appearance and in intellectual might. He was such an unimaginable being, causing her heart to pump in fear and her brain to work hard just to keep up with his quick insightful jabs. He was beyond belief and she was glad to be done with him for the time being.

It confused her the way the image of him would not extrapolate itself from her mind. Aside from the fact he was oddly compelling to look at, he gave her a rare challenge that provoked her fascination.


	4. Chapter 4

The new prince and Abu were already down at breakfast when Jasmine entered the dining hall. Aladdin was quick to his feet so that he could slide out Jasmine’s chair for her as she sat down.

“Thank you, Ali,” she said. “But I would prefer you save your energy for something other than unnecessary chivalry next time.”

“Oh,” Aladdin replied, looking to the ground in confusion.

“You did nothing wrong. I don’t like to be treated as though I can’t or won’t do simple tasks so I’ve asked my father and the staff not to do those things for me. You understand.”

“Yes, of course.” Though Aladdin glanced at his monkey, who shrugged back at him.

Jasmine and Aladdin ate in silence for a few moments, each wondering how to start a conversation. She could tell Aladdin wanted to get to know her better, but she was more interested in getting him to admit he was the boy from the marketplace. As odd as it would seem to have him tell the truth, she didn’t want him to carry the lie through his entire life.

“How have you been faring in the palace?” she finally asked. He looked up at her in relief that he didn’t have to start the conversation, knowing he was quite awkward when it came to it.

“Fine. The staff have been nice to me.”

“That’s good. Do you have any plans for today?”

“I was thinking I would do what you do?” It was a half-attempt at a request. Jasmine figured that if he was going to be around for a while, it would be wise to at least get acquainted. He still had a sizable crush on her and the best way to destroy it was for him to know her better.

“Sounds good,” she smiled. He perked up immediately. “We’ll go to the library as soon as we’re finished here.”

His body drooped in response. “Yeah, sounds good.”

* * *

Aladdin’s face was struck in awe when he saw the mountains of shelves lined with all color of books.

“This is a library?” he squeaked in amazement. “I had no idea they could be so pretty.”

“This one is quite ornate, even for a palace library.” Jasmine went to a shelf down the aisle and pulled out a book with a faded blue cover. She opened it to a page and then handed it to Aladdin. “I found that story you were looking for. How about we read it together?”

Aladdin tensed up and slowly pushed the book back in her direction. “I like that idea. Why don’t you start.”

Jasmine suspected as much. At what point in his life would he have been taught to read? Who would have been around to patiently teach him? Regardless, she began to read from the tome.

“In the land of Agrabah,” she said, making it up as she went along, “sometime before the reign of Sultan Abdullah Hakim Attiyah, lived a genie. It was once said that the genie had been trapped inside a lamp by an ancient spirit who was jealous of the genie’s friendship with the humans who lived on the land. Okay, now you read the next page.” She shoved the book towards him and he pushed it back with flattened palms.

“Why?” he asked. “I like hearing you read! You have a beautiful voice.”

“C’mon, Ali, if you want to be my friend, then you’ll read for me.” It was a manipulation tactic she didn’t quite enjoy employing, however she knew it would be effective. Aladdin sighed out and took the book from her. She pointed to where she stopped and he began to read.

“T-the g-…guh…genny…was a b-buh-buh-loo…” He at least knew his letters and how to sound them out, but he was far from an advanced reader. Jasmine took the book from him. Aladdin was too ashamed to look at her.

“I could teach you to read if you like,” Jasmine said.

“Nah, that’s all right.” Aladdin shook his head in regret. “I’ve tried many times but never quite got the hang of it.”

“All it takes is practice.” She bumped her fist across his shoulder. “And now you have plenty of time and resources at your disposal.”

“I’m not smart enough.”

Jasmine was saddened that he would give up so easily with such a negative thought about himself. She hoped one day he would find the motivation to learn a basic and fulfilling skill as reading. She perked up as she suddenly remembered what it was he had a natural talent for.

“’Come with me,” she said, taking his arm. “I’ve got something better for you.”

* * *

Aladdin didn’t even know slings existed. Even though it had it’s place in the armory, it might as well have been a child’s toy. Aladdin shot again and again at the straw stuffed sacks posing as enemies near the barrack wall. It took him no time at all to hit the targets right on the painted bullseye. Abu scampered around the area, eating the fruits broken open that Aladdin used as projectiles.

“Did you see that hit?” Aladdin shouted out in self-proclamation. “Third one in a row!”

He was distracted by his own excitement. She took her shot.

“Good job, Aladdin!” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re a natural at that. Kind of like your improvisation in the marketplace.”

“You’re not so bad at improvisation yourself, you know,” he laughed, prodding his elbow near her ribs. “I didn’t have to tell you twice to play along.”

“I’ll admit I was particularly pleased when I pretended the camel was the doctor,” she said, allowing herself the pride. “Anyway, I think it’s lunch time so let’s head back into the palace.”

“Okay. But can we come back out and do more shooting later?”

“Of course.”

It wasn’t until Aladdin noticed Abu tapping his little foot at him in vexation that Aladdin realized he had blown his cover. “Oh, shit! Jasmine! Wait!” Aladdin ran after her in panic. “I’ve never been in a marketplace!”

“It’s a little late for that lie,” she said, not even slowing down to wait for him. “What I’m trying to understand is why even lie about it? What did you have to gain?”

“I didn’t want you to think of me as a street rat.”

“But it’s better that you’re a long lost brother who grew up poor in an orphanage?” She stopped to face him. “Look, I’m not mad. I’m just having trouble understanding your story. That was you in the marketplace the other day. You were clearly homeless, living in the top floor of a broken down building and stealing from the vendors. Why bother with the pretense of being somebody else? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Aladdin circled his toe in the sand, while looking down in shame. “Honestly? I have no answer for you. I didn’t even know what the locket was for until yesterday. I was told I would be a prince if I showed it to the Sultan, but really I had no idea that was true. I’m just as surprised as everyone else that I’m a prince now!”

“You thought you would walk into the palace with your locket and…then what? You’re magically a prince somehow?”

Aladdin considered that he had not fully thought out any scenario before approaching the Sultan. It was hard not to feel terribly sheepish. “Uh, Yes?”

“And then you thought that if you’re a prince now, that you should have a new name?”

“Ummm…”

Knowing how he came by the locket and that he wouldn’t have any answers to any reasonable questions, Jasmine simply rolled her eyes and pretended to accept any explanation. “Don’t worry about it, Aladdin,” she told him, taking his arm and pulling him towards the palace. “I’ll go along with whatever you want to tell people. I mean, the monarchy’s official stance for your sudden appearance is that you’re a long lost cousin from my mother’s kingdom, and you’re staying here to learn about Agrabah.”

“It is?”

“You didn’t hear? My father wouldn’t want it known that my mother had a child out of wedlock, so Omar devised the cover story.”

“About your mother,” Aladdin said as he took her arm from his and faced her in dire seriousness. “I’m not your mother’s son. We’re not siblings. I asked a genie to make me a prince and my wish came true.”

Jasmine didn’t want Aladdin to try to stir up a romantic relationship between them and she certainly didn’t want him to find out the genie’s lamp was still in the palace. She figured the best way to handle any of that was to ensure he still believed she thought they were siblings and that she would never consider genies anything but characters from stories.

Jasmine burst out laughing.

“You nearly had me there, Aladdin!” she said, as she tapped him on the shoulder in jest. “Everyone knows there’s no such thing as genies. It’s so good to have a brother I can joke with!”

“I’m serious though, Jasmine.” Aladdin gave her a forlorn look. She absolutely did not want him to be serious now of all times.

“Now, now, the joke is over, Aladdin. You’re taking it too far, you know.”

“Oh, right,” he forced a chuckle.

“C’mon, it’s time for lunch.”

* * *

It took several days for Jasmine to gain the courage to let the genie out of his lamp again. Beside the fact that she had three wishes that could change the fate of Agrabah, it was her longing to look upon the genie that finally caused her to relent.

Jafar felt his body seep through the spout in a river of mist. In that time, he had managed to soften his anger and given a lot of thought about his predicament. Regardless, he had still not reached a conclusion about Jasmine.

She had given the room more light this time, enough for him to notice that she was younger than he had initially thought. Her beauty was more distinct in the light and he could see why a boy like Aladdin would fall for her. Unlike Aladdin, Jafar was not an advocate of love at first sight. Love, trust and respect, he believed, were all earned.

He kept his arms crossed as he glared down at her, making sure he was large enough to nearly encompass the entire corner of the room. “Well, Princess?” he remarked disdainfully.

“You will refer to me by my name, Genie.”

He frowned and glanced away. “So be it. _Jasmine_.”

“Thank you._ Jafar_.”

“Have you decided on a wish?”

“Perhaps,” she responded. “But we need to talk about it. Come sit down.”

Jafar sighed out in exasperation. This was infuriating. While he would admit she seemed to be a more reasonable person than he was used to dealing with, she might as well be holding him hostage until he could be passed along to the next fool.

“Come on,” she coaxed, indicating the chair across from her. “This will take less time if you’d just listen for a moment.”

Begrudgingly, Jafar floated to the chair until he materialized his legs, reduced his height to a respectable seven feet tall, and turned to sit down. He noticed her surreptitiously glancing at his cloth concealing his groin. At least she wasn’t different than everyone else in that regard. There wasn’t a person he’d met who didn’t wonder what lay beneath.

“Speak,” he remarked with some insolence, not even giving her the respect to look her in the eye.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked, pouring herself a cup from a little teapot on the table.

“Just tell me what you want from me.”

“If I were to promise to use my third wish to release you from this life, would you be kind enough to grant my first two in fairness?”

“Sounds like a lousy deal. I give you undeserved rewards and you trade it with my death?”

“You implied death was just as welcome as freedom,” she responded with a shrug. “Maybe you’d rather I slip your lamp onto a traveling caravan where you could be subjugated by many masters in some other kingdom.”

“You wouldn’t dare do that,” he defied.

“How would you know? Aren’t I just another royal spoiled brat?” she said, sipping her tea with the social graces of a well-trained aristocrat.

Jafar huffed out in silence. He doubted her claim to simply give him away but she was very good at concealing her true intentions and he didn’t want to be wrong.

“How can I trust that you won’t get your first two wishes the way you want them to be and then wish me a century long painful death for your third?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” she responded. “Unlike you, I am a sympathetic person.”

“What part of that is the insult?” he sneered. “That I’m not sympathetic or not a person? Either way, your offense falls flat. I do not care to be either.”

This time it was Jasmine’s turn to sigh in exasperation. He was more child than man sometimes.

“Your wish is to simply die without pain. What I am saying is that I would do good on my word. Unlike you.”

Jafar felt his anger rise all the way up his face. “How dare you imply that my word is not good.”

Jasmine set her tea down and took a book from off the table, opening it up to the marker. “Jafar was known to be many things, a wise politician, a supreme sorcerer, and a villainous traitor. Incredibly, among his many traits, it was said that never once did he ever lie.” She closed the book and looked hard at him. “You might not be a liar but you’re very good at manipulation. On my word, I have no intent to manipulate you.”

“I don’t trust a member of the royalty to stand by their honor,” Jafar stated, leaving no room for debate.

“Then there doesn’t seem to be any reason to keep discussing it,” Jasmine replied, setting the book to the side. She reached over to retrieve the lamp.

Sudden panic gnawed at Jafar. “What do you intend for me then?” he quickly asked.

“You’re more weapon than reward. I’ll have to think on a wish that keeps your lamp hidden for much longer this time until there are more people in the world for you to accommodate.”

The centuries trapped in the lamp had been long and lonely. He didn’t think his mental state could afford such a lengthy punishment only to come out and become master for a population far greater than the current one. There would be no end to his slavery. There would be no depths that people would not dive so that they would have him under their rule.

“Tell me how you would phrase your first wish, Princess,” he retorted, “and I will consider your proposal.”

Jasmine looked down to the floor in thought. “All right. If I were to wish for Aladdin’s continued happiness, how would you cause it to manifest?”

Jafar pursed his lips knowing the first thing he considered was at odds with her desire. “I would turn him into the most unintelligent man in the kingdom. Ignorance is bliss, and being unaware of their own ignorance gives fools cause to be happy.”

Jasmine stared at him blankly before responding. “I see. Well…thank you for your honesty.”

“I’m not a liar.”

“As we’ve established,” Jasmine confirmed. “What about if I wish for everyone in the kingdom to have wealth?”

“Then I would turn everything into gold.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. And then the price of gold would deflate.”

“But, like, even food would be gold?”

“Yes. And then there would be an economic downturn.”

“And then we’d be right back to where we are.”

“Probably worse,” he surmised.

“Let’s not go down that route,” she decided. “Is there anything I can wish for that would turn out well for Agrabah?”

“I’m sure there is,” he answered, leaning back in his chair, raising his arms up and lacing his fingers behind his head. “however, even I can’t always predict how things will turn out. If you wish for no one to ever be homeless again, I would probably make all the homeless people disappear rather than give them homes, because if I were to suddenly make houses for everyone, where would all those houses be placed? There’s no room for them except outside the city gates. Besides, even homeless people have jobs and what if the houses were far from where they work? How would they cross the city everyday? How else would they make money for food? What would that do to the employers who can’t hire anyone in the surrounding area? There are too many variables at play here. Just because you wish for something and I’m willing to fabricate it to your precise meaning, doesn’t mean it will pan out the way you think it should.”

“Seems like I would need someone wise to help me figure out how to efficiently use these wishes,” Jasmine deliberated aloud, giving Jafar quick glances from the corner of her eye. “If only there was someone who was intelligent enough to know how to guide me. Someone that could give good advice like that was once his profession…”

“I’m not helping you, Princess,” he scoffed. “I’ve been a vizier to royalty before and it did nothing but cause me eternal damnation. You’re on your own.”

Jasmine looked away with a shrug. “I’d rather regret trying than regret not having tried.”

She sat speechless for a while, gazing into the fire, until Jafar began to tap his foot with impatience. “Still thinking? Does it usually take this long?”

“I don’t care for your negativity. Go back into your lamp,” she replied. Jafar felt a sting in his chest. He was more offended by his own heart to have been so easily hurt than by her for asking him to leave.

Huffing out in irritation, he stood up and gave her one last menacing glare. She gave no indication that she was threatened by him and deliberately defied his stare by sipping at her tea in a show of apathy. He pointed and light flew from his finger, hitting her cup with nothing more than tiny sparks before he turned into smoke and siphoned back through the spout of the lamp.

Her cup suddenly felt much heavier. She looked inside and noted the contents no longer sloshing around like liquid should do. Turning her cup upside down revealed the tea was solid and cemented inside.

With a sigh, she admitted to herself that the exchange had gone better than she expected.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Jasmine walked into the gardens to discover Aladdin and Abu climbing the trees.

“What are you doing?” she yelled up at them.

“Climbing,” Aladdin answered, like she should have figured it out on her own.

“Why?”

“There are hardly any trees this tall in town. Why wouldn’t we?”

Jasmine had no retort for that. If this was their version of fun, then she saw no reason to stop them. At the same time, it was odd how this seemed to distance them from her both physically and mentally. There was little common ground between them, pun intended.

“Which one of you is the monkey?” Jasmine shouted up to them as they raced to scale the trees. Even if she couldn’t understand the appeal of it, might as well attempt to build a rapport through humor.

“I’d like to see you try this!” Aladdin yelled down to her. “It’s not easy, you know. You’re supposed to be impressed!”

“And yet, I’m not,” she said to herself, low enough he couldn’t possibly hear her.

“Princess.” Jasmine hadn’t noticed the Grand Vizier come striding up beside her until he spoke. She nearly jumped and turned to face him while he was looking at the two idiots up in the trees.

“Omar,” she acknowledged. He was short enough that they stood the same height. His blue robes seemed more vibrant that morning. “Did you need something?”

“He’s much too old to be climbing trees,” he said, letting disgust tinge his expression, his mouth drooping around his white beard.

Knowing Omar, the man was of little humor and athletic finesse, so it stood to reason he had probably never climbed a tree in his life out of both disinterest and inability. Still, he was clearly contemptible about Aladdin and was trying to surreptitiously seek out her opinion of him. Had Jasmine not already known how Aladdin came to be living in the palace, she might have shared his contempt, however the truth must be kept a secret at all costs. She downplayed the matter as best she could.

“Leave him his fun,” she said. “He doesn’t know what else to do with himself.”

Omar turned to look up at Aladdin who was busy pulling fruit off the tops of the trees. “Got another one, Jas!” he called down, apparently unaware Omar was watching him.

“Do you really believe he’s the bastard son of your dead mother?” he dared to ask.

Jasmine was conflicted about the question. She didn’t like the fact that Aladdin resembled a promiscuous lifestyle her mother never had, but Omar was considerably smarter than anyone else she knew and she certainly couldn’t have him poking around and finding out about the genie.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” she replied. “Only that father believes.” She gave him a hard glare. “You wouldn’t be saying that father is a fool, would you, Omar?”

He glanced at her, keenly aware that she was either fully convinced or playing dumb. Either way, she left no room for argument.

“No. Of course not,” he finally said.

“Good. Best you go keep him company with your wise counsel then.”

He paused with a probing glare before turning and walking away.

“What did that bald jackass want?” Aladdin came up beside her as they both stared into Omar’s back.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jasmine responded. “Though, it’s probably best to keep your distance.”

* * *

Jasmine felt some anxiety as she rubbed the lamp while alone in her chambers that night. The genie sifted out of the lamp with a look of annoyance.

“Did you figure out a wish?” he asked. “Or are you looking to waste more of my time?”

“Considering you have endless time, I think it’s fair to say that you have plenty to waste.”

“It seems you would rather keep me locked in a cage for your own amusement than put me to good use. At this rate, you might pass from old age before you release me from these bonds.”

“We never settled on an agreement,” she stated. “You don’t have the luxury of hoping for that yet.”

For once his expression went confused. He glanced to the floor, thinking back on the conversation from the night before.

From beneath her chair, Jasmine pulled a wooden case and placed it on the table. She opened it up to reveal a game board. “It’s said that you enjoyed playing Crate.” She started stacking the pieces in their respective places. “Would you be interested in playing a game with me?”

“This is what you called me for?”

She began putting the pieces away. “Nevermind then.”

“No, wait,” he responded, holding up a palm and making a quick disdainful glance at the lamp. “One game.”

“One game,” she agreed, placing the pieces back on the board. Jafar materialized his legs, sat down in the chair opposite her, and aligned the pieces she had already placed with miniscule scoots so that they were perfectly within the lines of the board. Jasmine rolled her eyes at his compulsive behavior.

* * *

Jafar, back when he was a human, was exceptional at Crate, however centuries in the lamp without any practice allowed Jasmine to win by the narrowest of margins. The genie stared at the board in shock. Yellow eyes analyzed her winning move at all angles.

“Crate strategy has advanced since you’ve been inside the lamp,” Jasmine clarified.

“Hmm,” he pondered, still focused on the winning piece. Suddenly his eyes darted up at her. “One more game.”

“One more,” she said to appease him. It was difficult to fight back her smile.

* * *

Luckily for Jafar, it didn’t take him long to get back into the skill of the game. He placed his remaining piece in the winning spot, leaned back in his chair and folded up his arms with a triumphant smile.

“Redemption is mine,” he claimed. He was quick to note her simple shrug indicating his win was adequate. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at her boldness. “I defeated your modern tactics. You should be impressed.”

“And yet, I am not,” she replied as she began to rearrange the pieces. She paused for a moment and looked back up at him. “It’s luck if you win once. Skill if won twice.”

“Again,” he nodded. She placed the pieces in their beginning stages and allowed him first move. After several turns, Jasmine stewed on a particularly interesting set up that he was clearly staging. Being a person short on patience and quick to confrontation, she was not at all surprised when he began to speak, expecting he would have something to say about her taking too much time.

“Who is Hamed?”

Jasmine glanced up at the genie in confusion before realizing he had read the monogram upon the board.

“My father,” she answered. “This was his board when he was a child. He gave it to me the first time I beat him at it.”

“Ah,” Jafar stated. There was another pause before the silence was again broken by his deep, booming voice. “Do you and your father play often?”

“No. He doesn’t really enjoy the game, but he’s also not a very good opponent. I was eight when he gifted this board to me.”

“I see.”

Jasmine made her move and sat back while it was Jafar’s turn to analyze the pieces. He leaned forward, his pupil-less eyes roamed over all aspects, considering every maneuver.

“What about you?” she asked him, hoping he would be amenable to counter-questions. “How did you learn to play?”

“Also my father,” he replied, putting his giant thumb and index finger at the tip of a piece and making a last minute judgement where to place it. “I wasn’t so young when I bested him though.”

“How old?”

“Fifteen.” He lifted the piece and moved it to the adjacent square. “The year I was given a clerk’s position in the palace.”

“I didn’t realize clerks were so young back then.”

“They weren’t,” he answered, looking up at her. “But I was.”

“I see.” She scrutinized his turn, eyeing his position keenly.

“If you don’t play with your father,” Jafar responded, “then who do you play with? You’re not a novice.”

“No, I’ve practiced quite a bit,” she smiled, though she kept her focus trained on the game. “When I was a child I would play with my tutors. On the rare occasion other children came to the palace, I would play with them. The boys heard I played well and always tried to best me, however I was advanced for my age and they never once beat me at the game.”

“Did you join any tournaments? There were quite a few in Agrabah, even a few centuries back.”

“No, they were all outside of the palace.”

“What does that matter?”

“I’m not allowed to leave.”

Jafar hesitated for a second in subdued shock. “You’re…not allowed to leave the palace?”

“No. After mother died, father was adamant that I stay inside the walls for my own safety.”

“Ah. Well, I would think Crate players would be thrilled to test their skills against a formidable opponent like yourself.”

“Actually, you’d be right. Word spread that I was a seasoned player and for a few years Crate champions came to challenge me. It was nice for a while when they thought they would simply come and trounce me then leave saying they had beaten a princess of Agrabah at Crate. However, attitudes began to change. I won too many games. Even on the rare occasion that I lost, they were miffed that I, a young woman, could be victorious against them so often.” Jasmine frowned at the memory. “For them, it was better not to play than to lose to a girl.”

Jafar was silent for a moment. “Who do you play with now?”

“Nobody.” Jasmine laid a piece across his blockade, into the heart of his territory. “I have no one now.”

“Hmm…” Jafar mused, responding with a softer tone. “I see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up the game of Crate. Let's pretend it's like a cross of senet and chess.
> 
> Short chapter, sorry about that. I just started a new job and it's taking a lot of writing time away. I promise to see this story to the end though.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the extra long hiatus. It's been about ten and a half months since I last posted. I appreciate anyone who is still reading this story, AND I PROMISE TO SEE IT THROUGH TO THE END.
> 
> I've got at least four more chapters written out, so the next update is guaranteed in a week or less. Because it's been a crazy long time since the last chapter was uploaded, here's a brief synopsis:  
\- An old man leads Aladdin to find Jafar's lamp in the cave of wonders.  
\- Jafar tricks Aladdin into using his three wishes. He magics Aladdin out of the cave, then magics Abu out of the cave, then makes Aladdin into a prince, specifically Jasmine's brother.  
\- Jasmine knows something is up. She snoops in Aladdin's room and steal's Jafar's lamp.  
\- Jasmine does her research. She knows he is the genie Jafar. Their first conversation intrigues him.  
\- Omar is the name of the Grand Vizier in this story. He is short, unemotional, and wears blue robes (think Ben Kingsley)  
\- Aladdin is not smart enough to keep up the pretense that he's Prince Ali. Jasmine tricks him into revealing he's the same boy she met in the marketplace.  
\- Jafar and Jasmine's next conversations are tense but communicative. She calms him by playing a game of Crate with him. Jafar eases up on his aggression.
> 
> And there you have it. I hope you like this next chapter.

The next day, without any formal notice at all, a prince came to Agrabah.

The young man upon his white steed was followed by an escort of thirty or more. They paraded through the streets, gained admittance to the palace, and as soon as he spied the Sultan, the prince hopped off his horse and bowed low with a flourish of his rich robes.

“My liege,” he said with a humble grace, “I am Prince Kahleed Aziz Mitun Faruk Al-Hambra, from the kingdom of Hambrani. I have come to seek your daughter’s hand in marriage, for I hear she is widely regarded as one of the most beautiful women in the world.”

“Oh, my!” The Sultan clapped then nudged Omar in the ribs with his fat elbow. “Jasmine is sure to like this fellow.”

The Grand Vizier was not as optimistic. “Prince Kahleed, I must warn you that the Princess has stringent criteria in who she chooses for her husband.”

“Whatever criteria that may be, I can assure you that I meet them all,” the prince replied.

Omar tried not to betray his skepticism as he waved the prince to follow him.

* * *

Jasmine and Aladdin were in the library when they heard the fanfare of the parade just outside the palace walls.

“What’s that?” Aladdin asked, glad for the distraction from his studies.

Jasmine winced at the noise. “That, my brother, is the mating call of a fatherless donkey.”

* * *

They headed outside and were met by the Sultan, Omar, and Prince Kahleed, who made the same over-exaggerated bow to Jasmine as he had to the Sultan only moments before.

“Princess Jasmine,” Prince Kahleed said, “the rumors of your immense beauty have not done you justice! You are indeed, the most beau-”

“Don’t say it,” Jasmine interrupted.

Prince Kahleed froze in place. “I’m sorry?”

“If you refer to me as the most beautiful woman in the world, I’ll refer to you as the most cliche prince in the universe.”

“Yeah!” Aladdin said as he puffed out his chest. “Don’t call her beautiful!” Jasmine side-eyed Aladdin but didn’t admonish him.

“I-…but I am Prince Kahleed. Not Prince Cliche.”

“I know who you are, fourth son of the king of Hambrani,” Jasmine said. “You should have sent a messenger before making the journey here. It would have saved you the embarrassment.”

“Now, Jasmine,” the Sultan said as he nervously twisted at his fingers, ”Prince Kahleed has come a long way to see you. Isn’t that flattering?”

“Why come to see me?” Jasmine challenged. “What is your intent?”

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” Aladdin demanded. He quieted down when Jasmine touched her hand to his arm and shook her head no.

“I wish to take your hand in marriage, of course!” Prince Kahleed said, raising his hands jovially in the air. “I have heard great tales about you.”

“Like what?”

“Well, that you are a beau-”

“Besides beautiful, what else have you heard about me?” Jasmine asked, growing frustrated by the second.

Prince Kahleed swallowed hard and looked to the other men for an answer but they were not forthcoming for different reasons. Aladdin wanted him to fail, Omar wanted him to answer for himself, and the Sultan in that moment couldn’t remember anything else about Jasmine for the simple reason that he was distracted by the shiny necklace the prince wore.

“Uh, I have heard that…that you like to sew?” Prince Kahleed said non-commitally.

Jasmine pointed back to where he came from. “Get out.”

* * *

Jasmine wasn’t sure she wanted to unleash the genie that night, but she found herself rubbing the lamp even after she’d already told herself he would only cause her mood to worsen.

Jafar rose out of the lamp in a cloud of red smoke, solidifying with his arms already tight across his chest and his brows furrowed in intimidation. He stared at her in stony silence for a moment but sensed she was not in good spirits and that seemed to temper him from making snide comments.

“I would like a game tonight,” she said.

“If you wish,” he replied.

She set up the board, made her move, and then sat back to allow him his turn. Jafar gave the board a thorough study however in his mind he was pondering the Princess. They played in quiet for nearly an hour before Jafar deigned to voice his observation.

“You are distressed,” he said.

“I am winning,” she responded.

“Don’t play coy with me. Just because you are in position to win the game does not mean you are free from life’s agitations.”

Jasmine regarded him, perhaps even laying eyes on him for the first time that night. “It is difficult for a man to relate.”

“I am no longer a man.”

She eyed him quizzically, tapping her finger on the board as her thoughts sped through her mind. He wasn’t sure what she was pondering but was strangely relieved when she spoke. “Jafar,” she began hesitantly, “do you think I’m beautiful?”

Jafar was taken back by her question. Knowing there was more meaning behind it but not quite sure what she was striving for, he answered the way he would have if anyone else had asked.

“What does that matter?”

Jasmine huffed out a laugh and Jafar was intrigued by her reaction. “I’m not sure either,” she responded, playing her turn and then leaning back to speculate her life some more. “It would be simpler if I could learn to be happy for being a beautiful princess and having handsome princes come from far off lands seeking my hand in marriage.”

“Simpler, yes.” Jafar made his move on the Crate board. He took one of her pieces and laid it down on the table. “Rational, no. Minds cannot be defined by the appearance they behold. Dress a donkey in rich robes and it is still a donkey.”

“You are saying I’m a donkey?” she asked with a tease. He knew she had opened herself up for him to refer to her as an ass but it wasn’t worth the price of rare trust in exchange for a simple insult.

“I am saying that no matter how handsome a prince may be, you can not be paired with him, for the gap in intelligence is great enough that you will have married another species.”

He was granted another stifled laugh from her as she stared into the fire, stewing on his words.

“How many men did it take to imprison you?” she suddenly asked.

“Many,” Jafar answered. “Men, sorcerers, kings…it took many.”

“I have no doubt to your claim.”

They nodded agreeably to each other and spent the rest of the night in comfortable silence playing their game.

* * *

Jasmine had just sat down to breakfast when her father bounded towards her with a letter in his hand.

“Oh, Jasmine!” he called, “Jasmine, look what I have here!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with your economics minister?” Jasmine asked more to give him the reminder that his kingdom had other important matters than an unwed princess.

“The economy can wait,” the Sultan said, shooing the idea away like a fly buzzing around his head. “No one cares about that anyway. I have exciting news for you!”

She hoped it wouldn’t be either another prince seeking a wife or another long lost brother.

The Sultan, with a big smile, opened the note and waved it in her face. “Another prince is coming to visit.”

“Dear, Allah,” she cursed under her breath. “Which prince is it?”

“It says here that he is a son of the Sultan of Parakesh. My, that’s a long way from here.”

Jasmine straightened up, finding sudden interest in this letter. “Which son of Parakesh?” she asked a little too eagerly.

“Eh…” the Sultan stammered as he held the note very close to his eyes and scoured it for the answer. “It says here the…uh… Aha! The third son of the Sultan’s fifth wife. Prince Suliman.”

Jasmine groaned out in disappointment and slumped back into her chair. “Tell him not to come.”

“Oh, please, Jasmine? Why won’t you consider him? You haven’t even met him yet. How could you possibly say no already?”

“Father, most princes are all the same. Especially the ones coming here. They’re all second or lesser sons seeking out a kingdom to rule of their own. They don’t care about me, and they certainly don’t care about the citizens. They just want to find a place in the sun after being in the first son’s shadow for so long.”

“That can’t be true! You give yourself too little credit. Why all the princes who have come here don’t talk about the crown, they talk about you!”

“But by marrying me, they will inherit the highest position in the monarchy. That’s what they’re after. Besides, what do they know of me anyway? Who travels across the land to marry someone they don’t know?”

“Jasmine, my dear, you forget that you are so beautiful,” he said proudly, bopping her on the nose with his index finger like he did since she was a baby. “That’s why they want to marry you. Isn’t that wonderful?”

There was no way of explaining to him how offensive she found that to be. He was an old man stuck in his old ways. Jasmine grimaced and looked away in veiled misery.

“When does the prince arrive?”

* * *

“_Another_ prince?” Aladdin said, making a face. “How many princes are there in the world?”

“Hundreds,” Jasmine responded. “And that’s not counting the bastards.”

“Wow. Never knew there were so many.” Aladdin scritched his pen across the parchment, making himself cringe by the uncomfortable feeling.

“Sultan’s have many wives, therefore they have many sons,” Jasmine told him as she scooted the inkwell closer to him. “You’re not using enough ink, by the way.”

“Well, this prince sounds like a loser. I don’t even think you should let him through the palace doors.”

“How do you know? What do you even know of him?”

“Well, I…just know! Princes. Yeck!”

The only reason Jasmine was annoyed by his immediate dismissal was because it was out of his jealousy and not his concern for her. Regardless, it was cathartic to at least rant about her problems to someone without being told to be glad to have princes falling at her feet.

“You’re actually right about this one being a loser. I hear he’s a misbehaving prankster. Apparently his teachers hated him so much that instead of kicking him out of school and garnering the wrath of his sultan father, they simply graduated him early to save face. Now the prince thinks he’s a genius because he was rushed through his studies.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Servants talk. Especially ones that travel with their royal masters. I have all kinds of information on every prince. I even have illustrations of them.”

“Illustrations?”

“I know how odd that is. I’ve actually got one of the entire Parakesh family. Want to see the prince that’s coming here tomorrow?” Jasmine dug out a book from within the tomes and opened it up to reveal hand written notes and illustrations of royal families. “I’ve been collecting these and doing research ever since I found out I’d have to marry a prince. This is a commission the Parakesh family made three years ago and distributed to the rest of the kingdoms. It’s kind of like a calling card to other royal families in case someone wants to marry off a daughter or son in order to form a political alliance.”

“That sounds weird.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Rich people are weird.”

“Okay, you don’t have to harp on it.” Jasmine placed the picture down on the table and searched out the prince. “I don’t actually know their names, but they’re grouped by their mothers. See? The first group next to this woman are all the sons and daughters she bore in chronological order. This is the first son of the first wife. The second group are all sons and daughters of the second wife. Make sense?”

“Kind of?” Aladdin replied.

“Well, see, the prince coming here is the third son of the fifth wife. So he would be the third boy standing in the fifth group. This one here.” She pointed to a young man with a wide nose and long hair.

“Oh, yeah, that guy’s definitely a loser,” Aladdin remarked. “I can tell.”

“How can you base that on a picture?”

“You are, aren’t you?”

“I just told you. I do my research. That’s what I’m basing my opinions on.”

“Still, I can tell just by looking at him.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Hey, I’ll use my methods and you use yours.”

Jasmine looked from Aladdin, to the picture of Prince Suliman, and back to Aladdin. _Donkey in rich robes is still a donkey,_ she thought.

* * *

Jasmine rubbed the lamp and the genie swirled out. For once he did not appear with the impression to intimidate.

“Interested in another game?” he asked. “Or will you finally make a wish?”

“I would like to prove my worth against your skill before staking my wish against your wit.”

Jafar chuckled his deep, guttural laugh. “If you insist.”

He set up the first game as she set up her tea tray beside her. “Would you like some?” she asked him, raising an empty cup in the air.

“I don’t need to drink,” he replied, already eyeing the board with hard analysis.

“Ah,” she said. And then after a beat, “but _can_ you have some? Not that you need permission, but can your genie body handle-”

“I don’t need a master to allow me such simple concessions,” he interrupted while he made his move. “I can drink tea, I just don’t need to.”

With some confusion to his answer, she continued to probe. “So you’re choosing not to drink my tea?”

“Yes, I don’t need it so I choose not to have some.” His voice took on a harder edge. “Does that offend you?”

“Not really,” she said, though it still gave her some perplexity. “Just out of curiosity, when was the last time you had tea?”

“Before I was burdened by this punishment.” The genie seemed just as confused by the line of questioning.

“So even after centuries without having tasted tea, you still don’t want any?”

“What is so confusing about that?”

“Nothing, just you were cooped up inside the lamp for a very long time, and at the first opportunity of having food or drink, you turn it down? Aren’t you at all curious if it’s as good as you remember?”

“Fine, just give me the tea,” he stated, holding out his giant hand for the cup.

“Do you magic your own tea?” she asked, ignoring him on purpose. “Is the tea you conjure so amazing that anything outside the lamp dulls in comparison?”

The genie snapped his fingers and the tea came willingly to him. It poured itself out of the pot and into the cup after which Jafar drank it down in one gulp. He shot her a look like ‘there, see?’ but suddenly glanced down into his empty cup with brows furrowed together.

“What kind of tea is this?” he asked.

“It’s a black tea made in China.”

“China? What is that?”

Jasmine pursed her smile. “We may need to go over a map at some point. Turns out the east is filled with wonders.”

“Interesting,” Jafar said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. He snapped his fingers and the pot poured him another cup, which looked comically tiny in his large hand.

Jasmine didn’t miss the opportunity to keep questioning the genie. “I understand not needing to quench your thirst, but do you ever _feel_ thirsty?” she asked.

“I do not have a drive to fulfill thirst, hunger or sleep,” he answered, refusing to take his focus away from the game.

She paused thinking that he didn’t have many luxuries. Jasmine figured if he didn’t need basic necessities like food and water, then everything a man would desire was probably suppressed as well. But then again, he was currently drinking the tea like shots of liquor, downing each one and immediately pouring another cupful.

Jafar made his move and it was Jasmine’s turn to stare intently at the board. Every once in a while she would faintly hear the sound of a slurp coming from his direction.

“What are you smiling about?”

She hadn’t even realized she was until he said so. Glancing up at him, she cocked a brow and asked him, “If I give you a compliment, would you accept it?”

“Probably not.”

“Then I wasn’t smiling.” She took to planning her move again, staring at each piece as she played out the strategy in her mind. There were a few seconds of silence between them.

“But just out of curiosity, what would you have said to me?” His voice was lower, probably in an attempt to disarm her so that she would tell him and satiate his curiosity.

“Nothing really,” she said. “I was only thinking how your Crate skills probably made you a more powerful genie than your magical abilities.”

He arched a brow in confusion. “You consider that a compliment? Not that I don’t, but I would think that would be highly offensive to a princess who knows that I have toppled other monarchies before hers out of intentional misdirection.”

“I have never known anyone to have single-handedly caused a coup. Even as a man it sounds as though you were more than capable of destroying entire governments.”

He paused for a moment. “My intent at the time was not to destroy, but to alter.”

“You ended the Hamish line. Was that not your intent all along when you were Grand Vizier? As a genie, you got your revenge.”

“The revenge was bittersweet. Unfortunately, things went much further than I had anticipated after Hamish’s wishes killed him.”

“What do you mean further?” Jasmine asked. “Didn’t he die from a fire that broke out inside the palace? It went further than that?”

“He wished for his enemies to be burned. Hamish’s was not the only death that day.”

“Oh. Well, if it was just his enemies though… Were they not your enemies too?”

“Do you know what an enemy is?” he asked. His eyes narrowed sharply at her and she felt a note of fear swirl through her veins. “It is not an aggressor at the other end of your sword. Not even I knew the strength of resentment until the wish was fulfilled. After he stated his wish, anyone with enough ill will towards Hamish was burned alive. Not even I, a genie, escaped the sensation of being caught within a whirlwind of fire.” Jafar exhaled out in memory as he struggled to voice his next words. “Now imagine, Jasmine, if you will, a child angry at his father…”

Jasmine felt her blood drain from her face. Her hands lifted to her mouth in horror.

“Hamish,” Jafar continued, his words coming out slow as he recalled the tragedy, “after seeing his son die by his own wish, directed his hate towards himself. Once his life was extinguished by the fire that consumed him, I was released from the everlasting agony of the inferno. Many innocent citizens died that day. Their only sin was being dissatisfied by their Sultan’s lack of honorable character.”

Jasmine was quiet for a while. She could tell he was uncomfortable by the revelation and the emotive impact it had on him. “I apologize for bringing it up, Jafar,” she said, hoping to quickly put this behind them. “Let’s continue our game and never speak of it again.”

She made an uncalculated move so that it would be his turn to find distraction in the game. Jafar was silent for a long time and Jasmine waited, but in her mind she was preparing to place him back into the lamp until the pain of his shame had subsided. It would set back their growing camaraderie a bit but perhaps it was still salvageable at a later time. She reached for the lamp.

“Perhaps,” he said, and she hesitated with her hand towards his lamp. “Perhaps a different complement would suffice.” He seemed to be afraid of losing the friendly dynamic between them by always twisting her good intentions into a tragic life lesson. By asking, he was making himself vulnerable but at the sake of not having to restart their relationship in constant animosity.

Jasmine sat back in her chair and looked thoughtfully at him. “You, Jafar, are immensely more enjoyable company than Aladdin could ever be,” she said.

Jafar smirked and then leaned forward closer to the Crate board.

“Thank you.” And then he quickly shot out one of his own. “And you, Jasmine, are impressive in many respects that Aladdin could never understand.”

“Thank you, kind Genie,” she replied. She lifted her tea to her lips and made a slurp, catching his eye and giving him a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when this story is set, but let's pretend the Silk Road was not as prevalent in Jafar's time as it is in Jasmine's. This is why he's never heard of China.
> 
> Again, thank you to anyone still reading this story! Please let me know what you think because I love opinions even if they're critical (and selfishly, I feel fulfilled when I know someone is reading).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: Back in chapter 3 (which was posted about a year ago, so easy to forget), Jafar insinuates that it's not impossible for Aladdin to be Jasmine's bastard brother because her mother was the queen, and therefore adulterous like all queens before her.

Prince Suliman from the Kingdom of Parakesh arrived before lunch the next day, and his reputation accurately preceded him by all accounts.

“I am Prince Suliman,” he bowed. Not very low, Jasmine noted. “I come to seek the most gorgeous woman in existence; the only daughter of the Sultan of Agrabah.”

“I am Princess Jasmine,” she said, taking his arm in hers and guiding him to the gardens. “Tell me about your family.”

The Sultan, Omar, and Aladdin all shot glances at each other for various reasons. While the Sultan looked on in glee, the Grand Vizier arched a brow in puzzlement, and Aladdin fisted his hands to his side and glowed red in jealousy.

* * *

Prince Suliman enjoyed talking. His favorite subject was himself.

“And then I passed the exams when I was only sixteen because I am that smart. I’m possibly the smartest person alive.”

“Good for you,” Jasmine said, though the prince did not detect her patronizing tone. “No one else in your family is as smart as you? One of your brothers perhaps?”

“I have 42 brothers,” he stated. “But I doubt any of them are as smart as I am.”

“Ah. Well, what about travel? Where do you like to go? What’s your favorite place you’ve been?”

“I like going to Atleeza.”

“To visit the statue of Calathya?”

“No. To visit the brothels.”

“The…brothels?”

“Yeah. There are tons of them there.”

“Huh. Well, do any of your brothers like to travel?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe? I don’t see many of them very often.”

“Probably because they’re traveling the world.”

“Could be!” Prince Suliman said in epiphany.

“So, when you’re not traveling and visiting brothels, what do you like to do?”

“I am amazing at horse racing. I’m probably the best in the world.”

“Ah, I see. I like riding horses too-”

“And I like to be in charge. I’m really good at being a leader. I always figured I’d make the best sultan someday.”

“I find that the best leaders are the ones that don’t want to lead but are burdened by the neces-”

“I also like hot women. Which is why I came down here. Like, I want to be sultan anyway, but I don’t know if I’d want to marry a dog faced woman just to become sultan. But you’re hot, so it works out.”

“Probably best for you not to get your hopes up-”

“And then you’d be married to the smartest man. You’d have to get used to that though. As a woman, you can’t even compete with an average man when it comes to brains, so just a friendly warning that things I say might go over your head a lot.”

Jasmine paused and let her bitterness dissipate before she spoke. “How are you at Crate?”

She knew his answer before it sailed out of his mouth.

“Oh, I’m the best at Crate.”

* * *

An hour later and four consecutive Crate trouncings later, Prince Suliman stormed out of the palace with his face scrunched up in rage.

“I didn’t know the Princess of Agrabah was a terrible cheat!” he roared out while he stalked away. Everyone within screaming distance turned to witness this event with either shock or laughter.

“Wait, Prince Suliman!” the Sultan cried out, bobbing after him. “Don’t leave just yet!”

“I’d heard your daughter was a stubborn mule of a woman but I had no idea how insulting she could be!” The Prince reached his horse and grabbed the reins while shouting the whole time. “The Princess is a disrespectful girl who doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it!” He hopped onto his horse, nearly falling off as the creature began to trot away without the Prince’s feet safely in the stirrups.

The Sultan, Omar, and Aladdin all watched as the Prince rode away while grumbling loudly about how she didn’t have to call him dumb and ugly. Jasmine came to stand beside the men with a smug look and gave the Prince a passive aggressive wave good-bye.

“I don’t understand,” the Sultan said to Jasmine. “I thought you were getting along.”

“There’s no getting along with the third son of the fifth wife of Parakesh,” Jasmine answered. “He is a narcissist and a dimwit.”

“And yet you allowed him your time,” Omar said suspiciously.

Jasmine shrugged. “Father advised that I get to know the Prince before I send him away.”

“But you were supposed to accept the Prince this time, Jasmine,” the Sultan said, letting his frustration rise with each word. “I thought that by finally getting to know this young man that you would fall in love at last.”

“By getting to know the Prince, it would do the opposite of falling in love. He’s a creep.”

“And a loser,” Aladdin said.

“Jasmine, I-I…!” the Sultan said, losing his temper, “What is it that would make you happy? You don’t like any Princes, you refuse to act like other women folk, you sneak off in the middle of the night and leave yourself open to trouble…? What is it that you want?”

“What I’ve always wanted, father,” Jasmine replied. “To leave the palace.”

“Absolutely not!” he shouted. “You will stay here. Out there, you’re not safe!”

“And whose fault is that?” Jasmine demanded. “You say there are thieves and murderers out there, but I don’t see you doing anything about that. You’re the sultan! You have the ability to change the world!”

“You know nothing about the world, Jasmine, and you certainly have no business telling me how to rule my part of it.”

“But father, no one is ruling this kingdom at all! You won’t even allow your advisors to make changes. How can they make decisions on your behalf when you specifically bar them from deviating from the status quo?”

“Stop judging me, Jasmine,” the Sultan said as he waved a fat finger at her. “Being sultan isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. All I get are complaints. The problems are too big to solve.”

“You’re not even trying!” Jasmine said, voice rising in anger. “I know that a little economic strength would reduce the crime within the kingdom, but you’re skirting your economic minister every chance you get. I know you should be meeting with your constituents more often. The people should be heard! I know that you haven’t inspected the troops in some time and now they’re lazy and inept. I know that your ministers are upset that you never make decisions and that you’re too scared to set new laws.”

“Enough, Jasmine!” the Sultan shouted. “You don’t know what it’s like to have people coming to you for answers all the time! You don’t know what it’s like for people to blame you for their problems. I never wanted to be sultan. Never.”

“But you are sultan,” Jasmine pleaded. “Things aren’t working anymore. They need a leader. Can’t you just try?”

“And have everybody criticize me for everything? No. I like the way things are now.”

“But you are being criticized for doing nothing. That’s not worse to you?”

The Sultan put his fingers in his ears. “That’s not true. I didn’t hear that!”

“Father, this is insulting! I can’t believe a man born with the rarest gift of all, the power to make history, won’t even make the effort to bring happiness to his citizens.”

“You think I can make the people happy?” the Sultan cried out, pointing to himself. “I can’t even make my own daughter happy! What do I know about ruling a kingdom? I don’t have the slightest idea what is best for an entire population. What am I supposed to do?”

The Sultan put his face in his hands and began to cry. Jasmine put her arms around his shoulders and hugged him while glancing at Omar and Aladdin who both seemed uncomfortable to be witness to this argument.

“Father, I’m sorry to have upset you,” she said, patting him on the back. “I didn’t mean to make you sad. Tell me how to make it up to you.”

The Sultan looked up at her with red eyes. “Jasmine, my dear daughter…just find a prince to wed. That’s all I ask.”

Jasmine pursed her frown. When she didn’t agree, the Sultan walked away from her in a state of deepening depression.

* * *

The genie noticed right away that Jasmine was not in a good mood that evening.

“Would you like to play a game?” he asked.

Jasmine shook her head. “I’d just like to talk, if you wouldn’t mind.”

He sat down in the chair and studied her demeanor. She was still a young looking woman, but somehow she had seemed to age several years that day.

There was once a soothsayer that lived in a cave outside of Agrabah four hundred years ago. As Grand Vizier, he would visit the soothsayer on occasion, and she would look into the future and tell him that he would one day be the most powerful living thing on the planet. To that day, he still wondered if she knew his fate would be one of the genie. At the moment, Jasmine had the same expression as the soothsayer; thoughtful, but troubled, and more perceptive than anyone could imagine.

It also so happened that the Princess was in an easily provoked state of mind. Jafar was sure that he could incite her anger and cause her to make a mistake in his favor. Perhaps he could trick her into a wish that night. All he would have to do is tell her that she was abusing his servitude in exchange for validating her weak female emotions.

Instead, he abandoned any idea of instigating a fight. “I am at your disposal,” he told her.

“Did Hamish have any daughters?” Jasmine asked him. “Were there princess’ around when you were Grand Vizier?”

“Hamish had many daughters. I did not personally know them, however.”

“Did you ever have them married off for political gain?”

Jafar frowned, knowing that this line of questioning would take the Princess down a broken path. “Yes,” he answered honestly. Jafar was sure that Jasmine was at least strong enough to accept disheartening information. “Most of them were.”

“Were any of them happy in their marriages?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, but knew that wouldn’t be enough for Jasmine. He didn’t even bother to soften the blow. “But it’s doubtful.”

“What were the princes like four hundred years ago?”

“They were often selfish and egotistical. There was a lot of jealousy for the first son of the first wife to the Sultan. There were often brothers plotting to kill other brothers.”

“How were the wives of the sultan treated?”

“Like property.”

“What did they do to fill their days?”

“I did not associate with most of the women in the palace, but I am aware that they often created drama through their children and servants out of boredom.”

“What did Hamish do about it?”

“Nothing. He cared about his wives and daughters, but he was too busy with his sons, slaves, and soldiers. He had a kingdom to exploit, you see.”

“How was he exploiting the kingdom?”

“Hamish was a man in which he always wanted more and that he always had to be the best. When he heard that one of the other Sultans of the five kingdoms had more wives than he did, Hamish claimed all of the most beautiful women in Agrabah as his wives so that he could best the other Sultan. When he heard a different Sultan from one of the five kingdoms had built a throne of gold, Hamish gathered all the homeless in the cities and enslaved them in the mines to dig out enough precious metal to form an even larger throne. When Agrabah was experiencing a famine, Hamish stored all the food in the palace and distributed it to the families that were most loyal to him. Anyone who could not benefit him starved those years. The poor died off and the middle class become destitute, but the rich got richer, and in the meantime Hamish’s family tree grew like a weed.”

“As Grand Vizier, what did you do?”

“Hamish thought he was too clever for a Grand Vizier but he kept me on his counsel because I had served his father well. After a while when I would argue with him to be more empathetic towards the citizens, he used me as a public punching bag that he could blame all of Agrabah’s problems on. I started using my sorcery to get him to aid the people, but it only worked a few years before his sons and generals began to catch on that he was being hypnotized on occasion. The only reason they had caught on to the fact that I was a sorcerer was because the queen had outed me after I had confided in her my secret.”

“Why did you tell the queen you were a sorcerer?”

Jafar was silent. Jasmine figured it out for herself. “I suspect this has something to do with your statement that all queens are whores.”

“A regrettable choice of words,” he apologized.

“I ‘d like to hear more about Agrabah during that time,” Jasmine dismissed. “What was it like?”

“The only people educated were the sons of wealthy families. Women could be educated by tutors only if they had benevolent fathers, but otherwise they were society’s lesser citizens. Unfortunately, Agrabah was plagued with poor and homeless people. There were thieves everywhere, for how else were they to survive? The middle class were growing but largely unhappy with the crime rate and the negligence of their Sultan. The law enforcement were incompetent and lazy, and if they happened to do their job, their swords were too swift in the endeavor to dispense justice.”

“Hmm,” Jasmine mused, looking to the floor in thought. “In four hundred years, I don’t think anything has changed since you were Grand Vizier.”

“Progress is often slow, but even this sluggish rate would be considered worse than negligent,” Jafar told her. “Inherited titles are often plagued by long successions of inept rulers. I believe monarchies will one day be obsolete and a new government of citizens will rise to assert it’s superiority.”

“In the meantime, the monarchy is all that stands between civilization and anarchy. We’re not at a progression to accept anything on the level of those republics like the ones east of us.”

“Or even the democracies to the west. Our part of the world is woefully behind,” Jafar agreed.

Jasmine stared into the fire, the wheels of her mind spinning fast to accommodate her stream of thoughts. Jafar watched her as she pondered, and wondered what it was she was thinking.

“Jafar,” she finally said, causing him to straighten in attention, “I’d like to make my first wish.”

He hadn’t expected that. No one but her had ever held on to his lamp for more than a day without using his power to fulfill their desires. She had him for a week, so he had come to the conclusion that she might never use him other than personal company because the danger of his unleashed might was too risky. Though he was annoyed by the thought, he also considered it admirable.

“But first, Jafar, I want you to know that I am entrusting you to know exactly what it is my words mean,” she told him sternly. Jafar would have been offended had someone else essentially threatened him, however he was aware that not only was Jasmine different in that she would follow through on her threats, but that she had shown him respect and was hoping he was honorable enough to show her the same.

“Tell me your wish, Jasmine,” he said with a bow.

“Jafar,” she said, hesitating for a moment to gather the courage for such a delicate proposal. “I wish that my father was a wise man.”

Jafar furrowed his brow and sat back in his chair, pulling at his beard in thought. There were so many ways to twist this desire, so many possibilities to misinterpret it. When he was ready, he held out his hand, palm up, and a glow of yellow light formed upon it. It grew brighter and larger, swelling up above his outstretched palm like a giant diamond, until it burst out into shards of light that dissipated into the air around them.

“It is done,” Jafar stated.

Jasmine looked around the room in puzzlement, not knowing how the light related to her wish.

“Would you like to go visit your father right now?” he inquired.

“No,” she said, looking him square in the eye. “I will see him tomorrow.”


	8. Chapter 8

Truth be told, Jasmine had trouble sleeping that night. She knew all the ways that her wish could go wrong. Every word in her sentence could be misconstrued into something else. She hoped that by showing the genie trust, despite not really feeling he had shown he could be trusted, she had earned a wish manufactured to the best possible outcome. Jafar might have been known to be benevolent from time to time, however he was an opportunist that might have manipulated her then used his mischievous nature against her so that the betrayal would cut deeper.

When she went down to breakfast she half expected a stranger to come in and claim her as his daughter, or for her father to be wiser but dead since she had used the past tense verb, or that her father had decided to renounce the crown and join a religious cult in order to find enlightenment.

“Good morning, Jasmine,” she heard her father say as he entered the room. He was his usual jovial self, acting like they had not argued the day before. That was the Sultan’s usual tactic in the aftermath of an uncomfortable moment. Pretend it never happened and it will eventually go away.

“Good morning, father,” she replied, pursing her lips as she tried not to stare at him. Nothing about him seemed to have changed. His appearance was the same, his attitude was the same, even the way he stabbed at his sausages and shoved them into his mouth then chewed with wide jowl movements had not been altered.

“Mmm-mm!” he said with a satisfied smile. “These little sausages are my favorite!”

“So, father,” Jasmine began, not sure what to say to him. “Any plans today?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” he replied as he rested his fork onto his plate and stretched his arms to the side as far as he could. “The new model for my cityscape arrived and it’s about this big! It’ll take me all day to put together. What fun!”

“Ah, that’s nice,” Jasmine said. She narrowed her eyes to the floor trying to understand how her wish would manifest. Her doubts about Jafar creeped solidly towards the pessimistic.

“Good morning!” said Aladdin as he and Abu sat down at the table and started heaping piles of food onto their plates.

“Ali!” the Sultan exclaimed cheerfully. “I haven’t seen you at breakfast in a few days. Decided to get up early today, have you?”

“Er…” Aladdin paused, having been called out, “yes. I wasn’t up so late with my studies last night like I usually am.”

“Ooh, how are your reading exercises going?” the Sultan asked. “As smart as Jasmine is, I’m sure she’d make a wonderful teacher.”

Jasmine hadn’t even known that her father was aware she was instructing Aladdin on learning to read. She glanced to Aladdin, who shot her the same surprised expression she had, and then she arched a brow at her father in earnest hope.

“Jasmine is wonderful at everything,” Aladdin said, hoping to add points with her using his thick charm. While his words were kind, she felt put off by how persistent he was in attaining her affection. He should have known by now that it was impossible.

“Now, now,” the Sultan said in slight chastisement. “I can tell by your eyes that you’re being inappropriate towards your sister, Ali. Simply tell me how much you’ve learned for I am excited that a young man like you has been provided with so many new options in life. Reading is one of the easiest and greatest avenues for enrichment.”

Aladdin’s jaw dropped in dumbfoundment. Jasmine sat taller in her seat in rising hope. Her father had never been this astute before.

“I..uh…reading…” Aladdin stammered.

“Sounds like you might benefit from more lessons perhaps?” the Sultan said with a playful smile as he pointed a sausage ended fork at Aladdin. “First thing in the morning is always when the brain works best!” And then he shoved the sausage in his mouth and closed his eyes while chewing in satisfaction.

“Yes, sir,” Aladdin said as he got up from his chair.

“I didn’t mean now, dear boy. Sit and eat.”

“Just…want to get a head start!” Aladdin replied with feigned enthusiasm as he stumbled towards the door.

“Take some crackers with you then,” the Sultan said as he pushed the tray towards Aladdin. Aladdin grabbed a few, held them in the air in thanks, and walked off so that he wouldn’t make himself look more foolish than he already had.

“Good lad, that Ali,” the Sultan said once he was gone. “I’m glad to have him here.”

“Yes, father,” Jasmine said, hoping he’d continue talking.

“Do you like him?” the Sultan suddenly asked, narrowing an eye at her.

Jasmine had to admit that Aladdin, despite his obnoxious ability to skirt his lessons, and the discomfort he brought her in his persistence to woo her, was at least fun, meant no harm, and kept her boredom at bay.

“I do,” she replied.

“That’s good,” the Sultan smiled. “Not very much like your mother at all though.” He gave her a conspiratorial look and Jasmine’s eye went wide. “He must take after his father,” he concluded.

* * *

Jasmine was still not sure that the genie’s wish had been fulfilled. It was finally confirmed when Omar came searching for her in the library that day.

“Princess Jasmine,” Omar said, trying to keep his distress at bay. “I must speak with you. Your father…! I don’t know what’s come over him!”

“What has he done?” Jasmine asked, closing the book she kept for research purposes. She didn’t want Omar to see she retained information on all the royal families in the surrounding kingdoms.

“He’s..he’s…!” Omar said in rising surprise. “He’s ruling!”

“Sorry, what?” Jasmine said, standing up from her chair. “Ruling how?”

“He’s met with his economic director today and told him to initiate a citywide statistical analysis within the poor sectors. He’s trying to find a solution for solving the homeless problem!” Omar slapped his hands on his cheeks and dragged them down his face. Jasmine had never seen Omar this excitable and wasn’t sure how he was taking the change.

“And…this is good?” Jasmine asked, hoping Omar would be amenable to her father’s wiser attitude.

“This is wonderful!” Omar exclaimed, showing happiness for the first time since she’d known him. “He’s a changed man, Princess Jasmine! And I give the credit all to you!”

“Me?” Jasmine pointed a finger to herself and shot him a confused look.

“Of course! If you hadn’t stood up for yourself yesterday and told him all the things he needed to hear, why he might never have risen out of his mediocrity! You did it, your highness!”

Jasmine was relieved he wasn’t referring to a magical intrusion and that he was delighted by the change. She preferred to play it down just in case the sudden difference in her father seemed too outlandish or that she had anything more to do with it. “Still, this newfound motivation could be fleeting. We don’t know how he will act in the future when the fire under his feet cools.”

“Certainly,” Omar agreed. “But this shows he is responsive to hard truths and I am grateful to you for exposing it.” He bowed to her in appreciation. “And might I add that you also show a wisdom more advanced than your years. Perhaps it is an inherited trait after all.”

Jasmine was already perplexed by his words. He was not usually a man ready with a compliment, but she was equally confounded when he came to shake her hand in some kind of congratulations. Despite never having shown himself to be a clumsy man, Omar accidentally tripped upon something on the floor and grabbed at the table for support. His hands knocked over her books that she kept her research in and they fell to the floor, landing on their spines and opening up upon impact. Any loose papers flew out and were caught in the air, floating down with sweeping grace.

“Oops,” Omar replied, quickly reaching for the books before she had even realized what had happened. Before she knew it, he was picking up the illustrations sent by various kingdoms of their family structures.

“The Parakesh family?” Omar said, looking at the illustration in bafflement. He pointed to one of the young men. “Isn’t this the Prince who had just visited the other day?”

“These are private,” Jasmine said, snatching the illustration from out of his hand and placing it haphazardly back in one of the books.

“What was the number above his head for?”

“None of your business.”

“A rating system?”

“I said none of your business, Omar.” She slammed the books back on the table and shot him a glare. “Please, just leave me be.”

He stared at her with a knowing look. “With the visiting servants’ gossip still lingering around the castle, I suspect you have plenty of notes to write,” he said, turning his back on her. As soon as he was gone, Jasmine collected her research and headed to her room. Once there she stuffed her books in a hiding place under her bed hoping it was deep enough for the maids not to find it.

Jasmine paced the room, picking at her thumb nail, and frowning in deep thought.

Nothing Omar had done was accidental. He might now know she was keeping tabs on potential suitors but in truth there wasn’t anything wrong with that. But he was clearly trying to find out the secrets she would rather keep to herself. Still, just because Omar was aware of her research didn’t mean he knew what she was up to. He hadn’t really seen anything anyway.

* * *

Even Jafar didn’t always know how his magic would establish itself until after the results of it’s enchantment. He had made a specific spell for the Sultan to remain the same man in manner but to strengthen his mind in a way that he would rationalize his decisions before making them. In other words, Jafar magicked the Sultan to come to the same conclusions that Jafar would if he had been sultan. Unfortunately, not knowing the current Sultan, Jafar wasn’t sure that a wise mind would be enough on a man who seemed only interested in toys.

When he was called out from his lamp that night, he was confronted by Jasmine who purposely greeted him with a blank expression.

“I’d like to play a game of Crate with you, if you would be willing,” she said. Jafar noted her tempered smile and he relaxed knowing his magic seemed to have had a positive effect.

“Of course, Jasmine.”

They set up the board, and Jafar sat down, immediately accepting a cup of tea when she offered. There was a little bit of small talk as the game began, but for the most part they played in silence.

For once, Jafar was interested in conversation. He did his best to maintain the comfortable quietude between them but his curiosity was too strong.

“And how is your father today?” he asked, hoping he did not sound as eager as he felt.

“He is well,” she answered, placing her piece down on the board. She didn’t say more and Jafar could barely conceal his disappointment.

“Ah,” he replied.

Jasmine glanced up at him in amusement. It was oddly exciting to have this giant red genie interested in her assessment of his good deed. “My father has shown concern for the citizens living in the poverty stricken sectors of the city today,” she told him. “It seems he has decided to seek out the roots that need watering the most.”

“That is good news, indeed,” Jafar said, harboring his own satisfied smile. “Perhaps Agrabah will see an age of enlightenment as of yet.”

Oh?” Jasmine asked. “What kind of changes do you foresee in the future?”

“I wouldn’t know. I am simply hoping that the wisdom he has been bestowed is great enough to propel your kingdom into progression.”

“I am certainly hoping that as well,” Jasmine agreed. “But because you are already so wise in the way of the world, what kind of progression do you hope will become of my father’s rule?”

“Well,” Jafar said, pretending to think on it. He already knew exactly what kind of changes he would implement so this was not a difficult question to answer. “I’ve always maintained that the strength of a culture is in it’s working class. Opportunity to increase status of wealth through hard work or welcomed strokes of brilliance will always create a motivated workforce. What will come from it is economical growth and scientific breakthroughs. Right now the ability to make leaps and bounds into improvements have never been more possible.” He moved his piece into her territory without hesitation.

“An interesting mindset,” Jasmine said with a nod, puzzling out his move. “but terribly vague.”

“Educate the women and the poor,” Jafar immediately returned. “A kingdom cannot fail if everyone is enlightened.”

Jasmine looked at him in surprise. “How would you do that? Where would you get the money for schools and teachers? How could you convince men that women need education too?”

Jafar snapped his fingers and a parchment appeared in his hand. “This is a six point plan I had written out as Grand Vizier four hundred years ago. Everything you wish to know about my vision for education across the land is illustrated in this proposal.”

He could tell by the way she stared at the parchment that she was more than impressed. He puffed out his already brawny chest in pride. Taking the parchment from him and inspecting the thickness of it, Jasmine set it on her desk where it was available to her first thing in the morning.

“I’ll certainly be discussing this with you as soon as I’ve studied it.”

“I would be honored.” Jafar was aware that he was more interested in hearing her critique of his proposal than he had been when he had first presented it to Hamish and his ministers four hundred years ago.

“You have clearly thought long and hard about politics,” Jasmine said. “What other policies have you reflected upon?”

“Even before I spent centuries inside the lamp pondering humanity, I studied for years as a man wishing to form the kingdom into a pillar of strength in equality and justice,” Jafar replied. “I have bored many people with my deliberations about government.”

“Then I will let you know when I am bored of it.” Jasmine moved her piece to block the one he had placed on her side of the board. “Tell me your ideas.”

“There will always be crime,” Jafar began. “But what if punishment isn’t always the solution…?”

* * *

Jasmine hadn’t known how long their conversation lasted nor how many games she had played with the genie until he had surprised her with a quip and she had laughed toward the ceiling only to note a beam of light there. She glanced towards the curtains where they were drawn across the terrace and was shocked to find a slice of light peeking through the opening.

“What time is it?” she asked rhetorically. She got up and cast the curtain to the side to reveal a sunrise currently at work. Stunned, she mostly said to herself, “It’s morning?”

A knock at the door was followed by a voice on the other side. “Princess Jasmine?” it was the maid coming to clean the room.

“I think I’ll sleep in a little longer today, Talia,” Jasmine called back. The maid replied and then left. Jasmine turned her attention back to the genie to find he was already standing and looking at her for direction.

“I’m not sure how it’s daytime already,” Jasmine said. “You didn’t somehow…?”

“There was no magic on my part other than engaging conversation,” he replied.

“Well then, I cannot help but thank you for a wonderful night.” She gave him a genuine smile that uplifted Jafar’s genie heart more than he cared to admit to himself.

“It has been a very long time since I’ve had such enjoyable discussions,” he replied, placing the pieces of the board game back in their holder.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever been privy to such stimulating-” Jasmine picked up a piece off the table and accidentally brushed her hand against his. Jafar recoiled back so quickly as to cause her to freeze in place with great surprise. They both stared at one another in confusion before Jasmine managed to end her statement. “…debate.”

Jafar, embarrassed by his reaction, cleared his throat and looked away. “I shall return to my lamp,” he said, though his sentence ended in a mild question.

Jasmine paused for a second. He could see her thoughts spin through her mind as her speculating eyes darted from his yellow ones, down his torso, to his tail, and then to his lamp.

“Thank you,” she finally replied.

Expecting nothing less, he entered the lamp, though not without disappointment for leaving off on an awkward exchange after such an enchanting night.


	9. Chapter 9

Jasmine hadn’t realized how tired she was until she curled up under the covers in her bed even while the sun was brightening the room. Unfortunately, her thoughts were wracked with the bewilderment of Jafar’s action after they had touched for the first time. It was as though her skin had caused him to flinch away from a fire.

Without more insight, it was impossible to know what it was that caused him to react that way, but she had a strong suspicion. Eventually her mind slowed down and she managed to catch a few hours of sleep before it was time for lunch.

When she woke up, the first thing she thought of was the genie. The second was her father.

* * *

In the past it had been common for the ruling authority to meet with the citizens, but It was unusual for the current Sultan to make that effort. Today was an unusual day. Jasmine snuck into the giant receiving room where the Sultan sat on his large elephant throne with his Grand Vizier beside him. The room was packed with citizens and guards and all kinds of people grateful to finally get an audience with the Sultan.

From his place beside the throne, Omar stood next to the Sultan and spied Jasmine from across the room. Their eyes made contact and he furrowed his brows at her then glanced at the Sultan, knowing he was the reason she was there.

“And furthermore!” the Sultan shouted to the crowd, “I propose it necessary that more people are educated! After all, just because one is born without money does not mean they are born without brains!”

The audience cheered, and the Sultan went on about allocating funds from the treasury in order to pay for teachers’ salaries. The speech sounded familiar. Jasmine turned away wondering what it was the genie had actually done with her wish.

* * *

Jafar sat cross-legged in his lamp, meditating as he usually did. Or rather, trying to meditate, but his fingers felt a residual warmth where Jasmine had accidentally touched him and he couldn’t make it go away.

It was nothing more than a psychosomatic response to his irrational fears, and he was well aware of that, but still it lingered. If he could only stop thinking about it, the feeling would eventually dissipate.

But the sensation kept his mind on the fear, which in turn kept his mind on the sensation. Jafar fell into a vicious cycle of wanting to stop thinking of it, but not wanting to think on it kept him thinking about it.

After hours of this, he finally sighed out in defeat and raised his hand to his sight. Of course, there was nothing there, though he half expected to see the areas she had touched were glowing red like fire. It wasn’t the sensation at his fingers that tormented his mind; It was Jasmine. As a genie, he was supposed to be beyond these human fallacies.

He rubbed his hands and looked away with a frown.

* * *

Jasmine was anxious to speak with her father. The wish had altered him and she wanted to know precisely how. Later that afternoon she found him in his model room, putting his cityscape together.

“Ah, Jasmine,” he said, waving her in. He held an instruction parchment in his hands and was busy flipping it around and around, trying to make sense of it. “This thing reads like hieroglyphics.”

“How are you feeling today, father?” she asked him, reaching for the sun model on the table and spinning it with her finger.

The Sultan looked up at her with a skeptic’s eye. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

“Ah, well, I’ve never known you to meet with-”

“As soon as I decide to use some courage, everyone pounces on me like I’ve been possessed by some kind of sorcery,” he said in frustration. “I simply had an idea. That is all.”

Though he was exhibiting moments of thoughtful clarity, he was still the same child-mannered old man who preferred to attend to his toys than his duties. After all, she had asked that her father become wise, not motivated. Despite not having the work ethic of a horse, he was at least making new strides into leadership that could potentially have benefit. Her wish had been granted in the mildest but most humane way.

Jasmine pursed her lips and looked down to the floor in shame. “I apologize, father. If it means anything, I think your idea is fascinating and I am proud of you.”

The Sultan put down his parchment and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at his brow. “I would be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult to face all those people today. In fact, I quite hated having all that attention.” He put his handkerchief back in his pocket and took her hand with a tired smile. “But I was recently told by a very wise young lady that my cowering negligence would not serve the citizens well. Thank you, dear Jasmine, for being my truth.”

Overwhelmed by her love for him, she embraced him and he welcomed the affection. They hugged until the sound of someone clearing their throat broke the warmth.

“Your highness,” Omar said as he walked towards them with another parchment in hand. “The law you requested.”

“Really, Omar?” the Sultan asked. “I’ve already had such a busy day. Can’t I just be left alone to build my damn cityscape?”

“I have another matter to discuss,” Omar said, giving Jasmine a side glance.

“What matter is that?” Jasmine said, intentionally challenging his obvious cue.

“One that does not concern you.”

Jasmine, confident of her debate skills after practicing all night with a terrifying looking genie, was ready to engage in verbal warfare, but her father interrupted before she could get a word out.

“If Omar has something he needs to discuss, then I feel it is my obligation to listen,” the Sultan said in exasperation. “Please, Jasmine, go make sure Ali and his monkey aren’t eating all the bananas again.”

He had sent her away with the pretense of giving her an important duty. Essentially it was a wild goose chase because, of course, Aladdin and Abu had eaten all the bananas by then, but also that it wasn’t her duty to maintain. Still, she obeyed.

“Yes, father,” she said, shooting Omar a mean glare. She walked out the door and then a few paces down the hall. She then glanced down the corridor, making sure she was alone, before doubling back to sneak near the door where she had kept it open just a crack.

“...couldn’t possibly be her son,” she heard Omar say.

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” the Sultan replied, growing heated. “You think I would be foolish enough to believe a homeless boy didn’t claim his title out of shame?”

“Then why keep this charlatan in the palace?”

“What am I to think? My wife gave this locket to me on her deathbed. Where does that fit in? I made a promise to her to accept this boy as her son and I intend to keep it!”

“But it doesn’t make any sense, your highness.”

“You were there, Omar. Are you denying that my wife gave this locket on her death bed?”

“Well, no…as I recall that did happen.”

“Then explain it! How did Ali show up with a key specifically made to unlock the charm she gave me? We’ve tested this locket with so many keys and not one of them worked except for Ali’s. Explain it, Omar!”

“I can’t!” the Grand Vizier exclaimed, but his voice grew sinister. “I suspect evil forces could be at work though.”

“Sorcery?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Do you know anything about sorcery?”

“A little. Not much.”

“When do you think this sorcery took place?”

“Why, probably right before the boy came to the palace.”

“Then tell me Omar, with your limited knowledge of sorcery, have you ever heard of a spell powerful enough to not only alter memories of the past twenty years, but for physical evidence to manifest and be played out throughout those years before the spell was even cast?”

Jasmine heard nothing but silence, which itself spoke for Omar.

“I thought not,” the Sultan finally said. “Now I have been looking forward to putting this cityscape together all day. You may have thought that I was receptive to your rationalizations, but I refuse to send Ali away when he has showed that he is a good and honorable lad.”

“Of course, your highness,” Omar replied in resentment. Jasmine heard him shuffling towards the door and she quickly hid behind the large planter. As she crouched behind it, she spied his blue robes between the thick green leaves. Her heart stopped for a few seconds when the Grand Vizier paused at the planter, and she wondered if he noticed her hiding.

“Sorcery, honestly!” she heard her father’s voice echo through the model room as he spoke to himself. “Not even a genie could produce such magic.”

Jasmine noted the Grand Vizier visibly straighten tall, his eyes glancing towards the floor in heavy thought. Suddenly a smile drew across his mouth and Omar began walking again, this time towards the opposite direction he had originally taken. Jasmine noted that the library happened to be that way.

* * *

The red genie looked smaller tonight after Jasmine had let him out of his lamp. He was still impressive looking but not as imposing.

“What do you desire tonight, Jasmine?” he asked. He seemed uncharacteristically timid. “A game, perhaps? More debate?”

“I’d like to play some Crate if you’re amenable,” she replied.

“Then let us play.” He raised his hand towards the board and it set itself onto the table, placing the pieces on their marks with invisible magic.

Jasmine and Jafar sat down and began to play. That night, Jafar used especially aggressive tactics, and after his second win Jasmine eyed him in curiosity.

“Is this how you usually play at politics too?” she asked.

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating.”

“When you have something to prove, you get very aggressive.”

“What is it you think I have to prove?” He arched a brow at her, not sure if he should be offended.

Jasmine could tell she was stirring up his rile when her intent was to bring up what she thought might be troubling him. She backed down. “You have nothing to prove. I apologize for saying so.” She turned away to analyze the board, made her move, and then when she looked back up at Jafar she found him still eyeing her with that one bold arched brow. “I mean it,” she assured. “You have nothing to prove.”

“You are correct,” he replied.

“So let’s j-”

“I was once very politically aggressive.”

Jasmine paused for a moment, not sure if this was an attempt at intimidation or perhaps it was his way of continuing the conversation. She figured if he was open to talking, she would feed into it.

“I suspect you angered a lot of people,” she said.

“As one might do when trying to control the decline of stability.”

“I suppose those people whispered things behind your back.”

“Is there a point to be made?”

“Whispers and knives.”

Jafar froze. He knew what she meant but he doubted she knew the effect it had on him. He felt cold slice up his back and he pushed it away with anger.

“You wouldn’t know,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“You’re right. I don’t.” Jasmine got up from her chair and picked up the lamp. “I’ve never been stabbed in the back, and I don’t ever want to know.”

Jafar sat in his chair, glaring at the floor with his fists pressed upon the table top. “There is only one way to avoid that kind of betrayal.”

“I will not heed by that motto,” she told him. “Not everyone can be trusted, but I know that I am trustworthy, and so I believe others are too.”

“No offense, Jasmine, but you are young and inexperienced.”

“And you are old and have outlived everyone who hurt you.”

“One must learn from the past if they are to avoid mistakes in the future.”

“Yes, learn from it,” Jasmine agreed. “But not live in it.”

Jafar glared at her in resentment. “You’re aware that I’m from the past? I literally have an excuse in the form of an enchanted cave. How am I supposed to move on when there was no future in there?”

She raised the lamp and held it out to him. “Let me show you how far you’ve come.”

Jafar glanced from her to the lamp in equal succession. This seemed an odd time for her to be asking him to trust her in enlightening him, but it didn’t take him long before he siphoned into it with arms still folded up begrudgingly.

* * *

When he felt called back not much later, he found she had taken him up to the highest minaret where he could view the open night and the billions of stars that had persisted through the centuries while he spent them down in the cave.

The clear sky was open and immense, and it was so quiet that Jafar swore he could hear the Earth spinning. He was rarely speechless. The feeling of not having words to say was foreign enough that he wondered if she had somehow magicked his throat to catch.

“When was the last time you saw stars?” she asked.

“I don’t remember,” he said quietly as he gazed up in the sky. He had made the image of a starry night in his lamp while living in his own lifeless reality for the past three hundred years, but he could never replicate the vastness of it nor the wonderment it produced.

They stood in silence, taking in the darkness with the pinpoints of light. Jafar closed his eyes and inhaled the desert air, struck by the nostalgia it created. He had been a genie so long that he had forgotten the small intricacies of being a man. The clarity of the air and the dust that gave it hints of earthy musk brought him memories of a time, so long ago, when he was a young boy living with his contented family, and he had no knowledge of world politics or it’s injustices.

It reminded him that he had once been naive and very, very happy.

“We can go, if you like.”

Somehow Jasmine had sensed that he was overwhelmed by the memory of who he once was. It was not lost on her that he mourned the boy who had loved adventure and life.

“No,” he said, turning his face to the skies so that she could not see the emotion there. He gazed up for a long time while his eyes glanced about at the only thing that felt familiar to him since he’d escaped the enchanted cave. And because he was losing himself to his memories, he found himself doing what he and his sister had always done when they were outside their hut after they were supposed to be in bed. However, as he searched the constellations, he furrowed his brow, noticing that he couldn’t find the first pattern.

“It’s different,” he said mostly to himself.

“Different how?” Jasmine asked. She had been standing by in silence the entire time that he had almost forgotten she was there.

Jafar pointed up to a line of stars. “Right there. We used to call that row of stars the snake. It’s slightly larger now and somehow disjointed.”

She came closer to him to get the best angle at which he was pointing.

“It looks like a cobra,” she stated. He looked back at the formation and had to agree. The snake did have what looked like a hood.

“Why would the stars be different?” Jafar wondered aloud.

Jasmine revealed a book she had been keeping unnoticed in her hand, and she opened it up to a page of illustrations. “This is a book from centuries past with the same constellations as can be seen today.” She tapped the row of stars on the page that looked like a regular garden snake. “As you can see, the illustrations aren’t exactly like the constellations we are looking at right now.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have heard a theory that could explain this phenomenon, though it is outlandish to the educated ear.”

“What theory?”

“Space is expanding.”

Jafar stared at her blankly. “I don’t understand,” he managed to say after a moment. “Expanding in what way? How do you know all this?”

“I took up an interest in astronomy last year and found that some of the older books had different star placements, but I deduced that had more to do with the artist not getting the exact pattern correct rather than the stars moving around. The good thing about stars is that there are a lot of illustrations of them throughout the centuries. If one were to illustrate the same sky night after night, and then flip through the pages quickly, the stars would look like they were movin-”

Jafar turned to the skies, held out his hands, and gripped what looked like invisible reins. “It is very rare to have the opportunity to not only showcase my phenomenal cosmic power, but to also present it to someone who would not fear it,” he said.

The stars obeyed his command, brightening against the black sky and moving at a snail’s pace into the formations he remembered. Jasmine gazed in awe at the snake that thinned out into the original string of stars, losing it’s cobra like appearance. “This is the constellation as it was four hundred years ago,” Jafar told her, pointing to the snake constellation and sparking it so that it looked like it was slithering slowly across the sky.

“Yes, I see,” she confirmed with her illustration of four hundred years past. “Now, when space expands, the stars get further away and the angles from which we can see them shift in all directions due to the paths the stars are traveling. If you wouldn’t mind, Jafar?” He did as she asked and ordered the stars to right themselves into the way they were before. She continued. “Four hundred years later, the snake constellation has become a cobra. As you can see, the void between the stars are wider. Space has expanded between them.”

Jafar was speechless again. It was rare to learn something so amazing from one so young. “I once thought I knew everything.”

“It’s possible you did. You were once referred to as the smartest man in the world.”

He shook his head in regret at the thought. “Before I died as a man I learned that I knew nothing at all.”

“And as a genie?”

“And now as a genie, the world is still full of surprises.”

“I had hoped you would think so,” Jasmine told him with a gentle smile.

Jafar turned to her, giving her another arched brow, this time in amusement. “You’ve brought me here to force me to realize that even the stars have moved forward and not dwelt in the past.”

“No, I brought you here because I thought you would enjoy feeling insignificant and not weighed down by your own cynical thoughts of yourself,” she said as she leaned up against the edge of the minaret wall in self-satisfaction. “But, if you pulled a life lesson from it, then it was an unexpected benefit.”

Jafar let a smile drift at the corner of his mouth. “I suspect you’re up here a lot.”

“Your suspicions are correct."

"You think of all that you have lost..."

"Yes."

"...and stand to lose?"

Jasmine nodded. "Of course. We are rare, Jafar. A princess lost to neglect, and a genie lost to time. There is no one to confide in but the skies.”

“The skies have never betrayed me,” he told her. “If you’re looking for trust, it’s not easily gained.”

“I know, but I was hoping to start out small.”

“What do you mean?”

“Please,” Jasmine said as she came towards Jafar, stopping a foot from him and just on the edge of invading his personal space. “Hold out your hand.”

It was a strange request, but he knew what she was asking of him, and in a way it would be harder to fulfill than if she had asked for him to rearrange the stars forever. A week ago he would have told her that though she was his master he did not have to abide by her requests if they were not in the form of a wish. Tonight, he narrowed an eye at her and nodded.

Jafar slowly held out his arm and opened up his hand like a rose at first light. He watched as Jasmine took a step closer, holding out her own hand like approaching a feral tiger. Her breath came out uneven as she closed the proximity between them. Jafar wasn’t quite sure what she had in mind until her hand hovered above his and very slowly began to bridge the gap until they were close enough to feel the heat emanating from the other.

Jafar swallowed hard, timid in anticipation of the touch as though she held a knife in her hand, waiting to prick him upon his skin. Jasmine noticed. She hesitated for a second before touching her index finger to the middle of his palm.

“Does that hurt?” she asked.

He told her the truth.

“Yes.”

She nodded and lifted her finger away from him.

Bringing the lamp up, she held it out to him and he hesitated before transferring himself into it. When he was completely inside, she inspected her finger, but there wasn’t anything there to note.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Against my better judgment, I am posting this chapter. I hope you like it.

Jasmine might have been recently blessed with a new brother to spend her time with, a monkey to entertain her, and a father who had gained the wisdom to occasionally make political strides, but she was still living a dull existence inside a dull palace.

“Father, I’d like to go outside the walls,” she told him the next day at breakfast.

“I don’t want to argue about this again, my dear,” he sighed.

“But father, think of the things I can learn beyond this palace. We can frame it as a task. I’m teaching Aladdin to read. Wouldn’t it be nice to start a library in the area he grew up in?”

“Please, not another one of your charitable ideas,” her father pleaded, holding his hand to his head perhaps due to a headache.

“But it would be a chance for me to get out and do something in the name of the kingdom. I really think the citizens would take interest in-”

“I said not now,” he replied. Jasmine snapped her mouth shut and looked away, causing him to sigh out again, this time in instant regret. “It seems as soon as I manage to orchestrate a few laws, suddenly everyone is asking my permission for everything because they think I’m a changed man.” He looked at her in a mix of pride and remorse. “I’m sorry, Jasmine, but I couldn’t bear it if something were to happen to you.”

“All right, father,” she answered sadly. It was never any use to argue with him. Too often he would hide away in his shell and then there was no talking to him after that.

The Sultan suddenly sat up straight as an idea took hold. He placed her hand in his and looked her square in the eye. “But I promise you that I have taken your request into account, my dear.”

She didn’t know what he had in mind, but immediately after breakfast the Sultan called for his minister of the interior to work out his idea. After the meeting he rode on his rocking horse for an hour.

* * *

The nights were for the genie.

“Are you going to lecture me again?” Jafar asked as soon as he was out of the lamp.

“You jest,” she replied. “But I want to know more about your ailment.”

“My ailment?” he asked. “Are you referring to my being a genie and not a man?”

“I am referring to your inability to touch without the feeling of pain…” she told him.

“I figured you’d bring that up.”

“...for I believe I have it too.”

Jafar stood like a stone statue while staring at her with a dubious expression. “You have it?” he said at long last. “Assuming I know what you’re talking about, that’s unlikely.”

“I admit that the effect on me is not nearly as extensive as it is on you and certainly not for the same reasons, but I’d like to discuss it, if you don’t mind.”

“Just because you are intelligent does not mean you can cure the world, Jasmine.”

“I don’t plan on being your savior,” she replied.

He gave her a dubious look that was all he needed to get her to roll her eyes at him.

“Okay, look, Jafar, I know your four hundred years makes mine pale in comparison, but I am 22 years into a prison sentence of loneliness. It’s enough to inflict damage on my personal regard. I feel like an imposter, someone who was born a princess but only pretending to be one. I can never show my true emotions, or ask for the things I want, or do the things I want to do because showing any independent thought outside the rigid parameters of appropriate behavior reveals vulnerabilities that are quickly judged, denounced and punished. I’m not allowed to show interest in politics, I can’t go outside the palace walls, and I have never had a true friend I could be myself around. I am not in control of my destiny and I never have been, and the way this manifests is in extreme distrust and distance. When I am touched by someone with personal intent, be it friendship or romance, there is a feeling of lightning that strikes at my skin upon contact. It feels like it’s biting into me, nibbling towards my heart and implanting negative thoughts that deprive me of my self worth. If anyone can understand that, it would be you.”

Jafar stared at and assessed her in the same way he had the first night they had talked. He had thought he was beginning to understand her, and yet she pulled the rug out from underneath him again.

“I’d rather play a game,” he stated.

Jasmine looked to the floor with a hidden frown and nodded. “If you wish,” she replied, pulling out the Crate board.

* * *

Jafar was comfortable with silences and that was generally how he preferred it to be when playing Crate, however Jasmine had managed to successfully distract him enough that she was winning every time. His mind was reeling with the thought that she had also felt the sear at their touch. She had described it perfectly.

“Are you tired, Jafar?” she asked.

“I don’t tire,” he replied, refusing to accept her reasoning for why he was losing. He moved his piece and she captured it with her next turn. He noticed she was calm and graceful, and it didn’t make sense to him how she could be serene if she also had the same affliction he did.

“Would you like to call it a night?” she asked once more.

“I’d like to finish this game,” he answered with a grit to his teeth. He was aware the game was essentially over because there was no way for him to win, but he needed time to study her and so he kept the game going. He was puzzled by her demeanor. How could she possibly understand the way his skin crawled at the mere thought of physical contact?

Jasmine sat patiently, which was somehow worse for him. He stewed on his pieces, staring at the board for what felt like a lifetime only to realize he hadn’t been pondering his next move at all.

Jasmine, this woman, barely past her years as a girl, was as cunning and ruthless as a tiger. By all outward appearances she was graceful and speculative, not afraid of confrontation or dangerous situations. But inwardly she was a loner and very slow to trust others, not that she thought they would betray her, but that they would not be smart enough to make the most reasonable choices. She had grown up inside a palace that no one wanted to believe could act as her prison, and she had been here alone with nobody who could possibly relate to her issues. No mother to unconditionally love her and lighten her spirits, a father mostly absent in his intelligence and time, no siblings to bond with or lean on, too many suitors coming to meet her only for her beauty and title, and never has anyone stopped to consider the woman she is.

There was no one she could talk to; no one she could rely on not to spread gossip around the palace that the princess was another unhappy royal. Rather than pity the woman for never having control over her own life, they pushed her aside as a brat too spoiled to be grateful for being a princess. She never had say about how she was perceived. Her rebellion against marriage was considered a public matter and there was no one to understand that her actions were valid. By all accounts, she was a shrew waiting to be tamed by a man. How wrong everyone was about her.

Jafar picked up a piece and set it on the adjacent tile. Jasmine crossed her piece towards it and knocked it down in a single motion.

“Game,” she stated.

“I am done for the night,” Jafar said.

“I understand.” Jasmine flipped over the wooden board, which doubled as the storage, and began placing the pieces inside it. She counted them out and looked around the floor in search. “I’m missing a piece.”

Jafar held up his fist to reveal the end of the piece sticking out from within his hand. She held out her own hand expectantly but Jafar did not place it in her palm. Puzzled, Jasmine slowly reached over and gripped the end of the piece between her thumb and index finger, but Jafar did not release the piece from his grip. Jasmine blinked several times before carefully inching forward until her index finger touched the side of his hand and instantly a warm, bubbling feeling started to well in her stomach. As she slid her fingers across his knuckles, the lightning came but a manifestation of warmth trailed where they touched.

Jafar grimaced, but didn’t pull away. Jasmine noticed but didn’t stop there because the building sensation between them begged her to continue. Her fingers slipped down his till she touched the tips of his fingers lodged against the meat of his palm and pulled at them to release. His hand slowly opened to reveal the piece.

Jasmine was finding it difficult to breath. The fire that burned at their touch was both the usual sting of discomfort now mixed with a flame that longed to be stoked. She gently placed her palm on top of his large one and smoothed her skin against his, down his hand, until she reached the piece. She glanced up at him and found him staring at her with masked tension.

Jasmine took the piece, slipped her hand away from his, and stepped back where the air felt suddenly cooler. She picked up the lamp and he filtered back in. Though her chest heaved with strong breaths, otherwise she didn’t move for a long time.

* * *

Jasmine woke up in the morning to the black lamp sitting on her nightstand. It was becoming routine to open her eyes and have it be the first thing within sight. There was something comforting about having it there like a guard over her while she slept.

Oddly enough, Aladdin and Abu were another part of her day she looked forward to. They had become her projects in a way, teaching Aladdin all kinds of new activities and educating him on his reading. The days were not so boring and she was glad to call him a friend. She could tell he was not as content to regard her in the same manner due to his obvious crush, but he seemed happy anyway.

“Jasmine!” he called as soon as he saw her across the courtyard. He and Abu scampered her way while she waited for them to catch up.

“Where are you two headed?” she asked.

“Not to the library,” Aladdin replied. “That Omar guy has been there for the past few days and you told me to stay away from him.”

“Omar was there?” She would have asked him what Omar was researching but considering Aladdin wouldn’t be able to read the tomes Omar had in front of him, she was unlikely to get an answer. “What section of the library was he in?”

“The area that we’re usually in. The one by your research books.”

Jasmine was glad she had moved them to her room but couldn’t explain why Omar was looking for her notes about the princes of the five kingdoms. What possible reason would he have to snoop through her things? She glanced at Aladdin and patted him on the shoulder.

“Definitely continue to stay away from Omar. There’s something up with him.” She decided not to tell him about the conversation she had overheard in the model room since he was terrible at keeping secrets. Undoubtedly, he would mention the genie when confronted and then there would be a hunt for the lamp.

“Yeah, no problem. The guy’s a little creep. Get it? Little? ‘Cause he’s so short?”

“Yes. I get it.”

“He’s also a little sad,” he added. “Get it? Because he wears blue robes?”

Jasmine decided it was time to change the subject. “Anyway, you’ve been going to the library on your own? I am so proud of you for keeping up with your studies!”

“Uh, yeah,” Aladdin said, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously, which was a strong signal that he was lying. “Just want to learn to read, heh heh.”

Abu screeched out some kind of retort.

“Shut up, Abu!” Aladdin said, prodding his foot into the monkey. “It’s totally because I want to practice reading and not because that cute maid sometimes cleans up in there!”

Suddenly, an idea hit Jasmine. Why she hadn’t thought of this earlier she blamed on her lack of sleep due to late nights with the genie.

“Come with me, Aladdin,” she said, taking him by the hand. “As a prince, you need to learn how to properly ride a horse.”

* * *

Jafar abandoned any thought of meditating hours ago. He stood still, inside his magnificent and barren palace within the lamp, and created wisps of mist out of thin air. The mists did everything he told it to, obeyed every command. It circled his hand as he flexed out his fingers, and wrapped around his arm like snakes of white smoke slithering towards his shoulder.

He formed the mist into denser and larger shapes that circled around him in rings of vapor. And when he felt the courage, he directed it to the floor in front of him where it shaped into the image of a woman.

She was featureless, only representing the gender and not a person. She stood with her hand out to him, inviting him to take it.

Jafar swallowed hard and hesitated to make that first step. When he finally reached out towards her, he was slow towards the connection, growing apprehensive with every inch of progress he made. When his fingers finally met the mist, the woman suddenly dissipated away and he was left by himself in an empty, sterile, gold mansion.

He looked to the floor in silent anguish.

The warmth on his hand was still there where he had allowed Jasmine to touch him and he raised his hand to his sight. It had been electric, the touch, sharp and painful but also exhilarating and sensual. The warmth of it persisted on his skin like a deliberate reminder that she existed somewhere outside his lamp. It was odd how time did not quell the sensation, but rather enhance it, urging him to keep his thoughts of her with him.

He furrowed his brow and stared at his hand like he was drawing strength from it. And then suddenly, the areas where he felt the ghostly contact of her fingers began to glow. He paused in satisfaction before taking action.

Jafar summoned the mist again and it swirled through his palace on strong zephyrs till it became a woman standing before him once more. She beckoned him to take her hand and he hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and touching his fingers to hers.

The mist smiled at him. He smiled back and then he took her hand in his and drew her to him.

* * *

Aladdin was hesitant as they walked towards the stables.

“I like horses and all, but riding them? I don’t know, Jasmine.”

“With your athleticism, you’ll catch on right away,” she assured him. “Don’t be afraid.”

“Hey, I’m not afraid.” He jutted out his chest in defiance. “It’s just that it’s so late in the day and is it really smart to take a horse out for a ride now when it’s so hot?”

“It sounds like you’re making up excuses.”

“No, I’m not,” Aladdin defied. “Although riding horses sounds like it’s murder on the butt.”

“Trust me, you can do this. Unless you’d rather practice your reading?”

“Reading blows,” he replied, and by this point it was quite obvious that he wasn’t just losing interest in the reading aspect of his royal education. It was a subtle change from the Aladdin who would do anything for her even if it meant learning something he was disinterested in.

“Let’s just meet the horse trainer and you can decide for yourself if you want to stay.”

“Well…” Aladdin said as he angled his arm so that he could rub the back of his neck. He wanted to protest, but his desire to make her happy was still outweighing the discontent. “I guess. But don’t make me feel bad if I don’t want to stay.”

“It’s a deal,” she said. They had reached the stables and Jasmine called inside. “Noor? Are you here?”

“Coming!” sailed a voice from inside. A woman came strutting out and Aladdin’s eyes went wide as his jaw dropped open.

“Hello, Princess Jasmine!” called the horse trainer with a waving arm.

“Hello!” she answered. She took Aladdin’s arm and guided him towards the trainer. “Have you met Noor yet?”

“Uh…” Aladdin uttered, nearly salivating out the side of his mouth.

“Would you like to?”

“Um…”

Jasmine rolled her eyes and pushed him forward. He was such a simpleton, transferring his crush from one person to the next, but at least this solved the problem of his attachment to her.

* * *

Jasmine didn’t know what to expect when she released the genie that night, but it wasn’t the good mood she found him in.

“What is it that you desire, Jasmine?” he asked as soon as he had solidified into his red form. He had a sly smile at the corner of his mouth and his musculature was oddly more defined. Taking advantage of his good mood, Jasmine had an epiphany.

“A game,” she stated.

“Very well.”

“But a different game.”

Curiosity piqued, Jafar looked at her with a raise of his brow. “What game would you like to play?”

“It’s a game children play. Truth or Dare.”

Jafar huffed out a laugh, side-eyeing her skeptically. “You’re joking.”

“Are you game, Jafar?”

Realizing she was serious, Jafar shrugged and sat down. “A few weeks ago I would have never thought I’d find myself in this moment right now.”

“I’ll start.”

“I would expect nothing less. I suspect you have the advantage of having thought over your questions and dares before calling me from out of my lamp.”

“You would be wrong. I only just now had the idea. Let’s refer to it as an amendment to an unsuccessful childhood.”

“I could possibly be persuaded by such a tactic.”

“Then let’s test it out.” Jasmine paused. For a split second she had the inclination to stop this silly idea by declaring that Truth or Dare might be too childish a game. After all, with such sensitive personalities between them, there was so much bound to go wrong. She glanced up at him to offer a different game to play and instead said, “Truth or dare, Jafar?”

He thought for a second. “Truth.”

“What did you look like as a man?”

“Interesting question,” he mused. “It’s been so long, I barely remember.”

“You could simply appear to me as you once were.”

“I could,” he agreed with no follow up. Jasmine decided not to push him to change his appearance as that was clearly a touchy point.

“Were you as muscular as you are now?”

“Quite the opposite. I was rather thin and bony. What I lacked in muscle structure, I made up for in height.”

“You were tall?”

“I believe at the time I was the tallest man in the court.”

“Some women find height an appealing aspect of a man.”

“Unfortunately, I was not considered objectively handsome. The women who I attracted were magnetized by my charm and intelligence, which frankly I didn’t mind for at least I knew they were interested in me as a person.”

“That…actually sounds nice,” Jasmine said, contemplating her life had she been born homely.

With the conversation paused, Jafar turned it back to the game. “Truth or dare, Jasmine?”

“Truth.”

“How many princes have you turned away?”

Jasmine glanced up to the ceiling in thought, counting on her fingers when another face appeared in her memory. “…twenty-seven…twenty-eight………….twenty-nine…” he heard her whisper to herself. “…thirty…thirty-one………” she threw up her hands and shook her head. “Probably forty or so but they’re all starting to run together in my mind.”

“What about them did you not find interesting?”

“Doesn’t it seem odd that I’m to marry a man who happened to be born within a family who were all linked to one guy who at one time orchestrated a coup to betray and overthrow his government?”

“Your father is in that group of people.”

“And so am I. But why does that mean I have to marry only within that group? They’re all entitled and foppish and disconnected to the real world. How could anyone in that group make a good sultan? How could that sultan relate to the citizens?”

“You bring up a good point, however you still haven’t answered the question. Perhaps that’s my fault, so I’ll rephrase it. What precisely are you looking for in a husband?”

Jasmine glanced to the floor with a frown. “Possibly something non-existent.”

“Which would be?”

She sighed and shook her head, not sure how to answer. “I am a princess to a Sultan without a son. My offspring will eventually carry the royal line and herald in each new era. What I want most is to know that when I am ready to leave this life, I will have faith that my sons and their sons will be wise, empathetic, and competent rulers. For that to happen, I need someone who can be a teacher to all my children, who will have the patience to guide them with reasoning and logic, and who will stand as an example in support of proven science and forward thinking. I need someone who can understand that there is more to being a ruler than just dressing nice and building networks with other kingdoms. It’s possible no one can reach those lofty expectations, but perhaps I can be a mother to those who could, and it must first start with the provisions of his genetic superiority. I want someone who is intelligent, motivated, hard working, dedicated, who I can work with and who will work with me, and who won’t treat me like a prize or as an obstacle. I want a man who doesn’t mind that I am headstrong, or that I enjoy talking about politics, or that I can beat him at Crate. In fact I want him to be proud of me and to offer me friendship, even if we are not destined to be romantically inclined. Above all, he must treat the citizens as well as he treats me, for he is pledging into their lives as much as he is pledging into mine. I’m not looking for a husband, Jafar, I’m looking for the next sultan.”

Jafar sat silently as he listened to her. He was so still, brows furrowed in thought and with his hand cupped over his mouth, that once she’d finished speaking she wondered if he had somehow turned himself into a statue.

“Did…did I make any sense?” she asked.

“More sense than I’ve heard in a very long time,” he replied.

Jasmine was flattered though confused. He seemed like he understood, but he was awfully quiet about it. She turned it back to him. “Well then, truth or dare?”

“Let’s go with a dare this time.”

“I’d like to touch you again. On your arm, perhaps?”

His expression didn’t change though he extended his left arm so that it lay against the length of the table. It was permission enough.

Keeping her eyes trained on him, she gently placed her fingers onto his forearm before sliding them up the muscles of his arm. It was more than just curiosity that had prompted her dare. She wanted to experience the sensation of gratification again, which was amplified the higher she moved up his body. Her thumb pressed into the strands of raised muscle and along the definition of his bicep, then ended along the rope of muscle of his triceps that lay just below his shoulder. It was like a drug was working it’s way through her veins, easing her mind but forming an addiction, administered through physical contact with him. By the time she had slipped her hand off of him she noted the goosebumps that raised up on his skin.

“You feel like a man,” she told him. “A very defined man, but a man nonetheless.”

“I wasn’t sure anymore. But it’s good to know.” He pulled his arm back. “And now it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“How do you know what a man feels like?”

Jasmine folded up her arms and looked away. “Okay, so maybe I don’t. Not in any intimate way, anyhow. I realize I’m much too old to be so inexperienced.”

“You are a rare woman, not because you are inexperienced on one account, but because you are so wise beyond your years in many others. There’s no shame in it.”

“How old were you?”

“When I became experienced? Like yourself, I was older. My 22nd year. I was very busy learning to be the best at everything that I did not allow myself time to bed a mate.”

“Interesting. I really didn’t think you would tell me.”

“There is no one else I would have told. As I’ve said, you’re a rare woman indeed.”

Jasmine paused, wondering if she should broach the subject she had in mind. Her curiosity was too overwhelming not to ask. “Was it the queen?”

“No,” he replied. “Not my first time.”

“Ah,” Jasmine said. She had colored red at the line of questioning since it was a subject she had never discussed with anyone before. Not wanting him to see her turn as red as the him, she went back to the game for distraction. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What do you do in the lamp? Is there enough room to move around?”

“I can make myself as small as I need to. There is infinite space should I decide to formulate it that way.”

“That’s quite interesting,” she responded. “Is time the same in the lamp?”

“A good question,” he complimented. His kindness was more frequent but she was oddly miffed of herself that she was so easily thrilled by such a basic respect. “Time can move differently in the lamp, however it is still linear. I can stretch or compress time within a set parameter. A minute can last a second to an hour if I wish.”

“How long does a century feel?”

“Roughly a decade. A prison sentence of ten years in solitary confinement is not the same as a century. Luckily, as a genie, I’m afforded limitless power which I used to make time bearable.”

“Thirty years alone doesn’t sound ideal, however.”

“No, I cannot say that it is,” he agreed. She nodded in understanding and he looked at her with a rising feeling of desire. Not one of intimacy but of companionship. He wanted for the first time to show someone the worlds that he had created inside the lamp. “I could take you in there if you like.”

She thought on it for a moment, but his heart sank when she purposely averted her eyes. “Thank you. But perhaps another time.”

Jafar understood all that had gone through her mind. As his master, he couldn’t harm her, but he was known to be a mischievous devil skirting laws and taking advantage of loopholes. She was interested, but he had the power to trap her in the lamp and she didn’t trust him enough not to imprison her then demand she free him from his bonds, because like her, he knew what desperation felt like and the lengths one would go.

“It is your turn,” he said, clearing the air. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Make me laugh.”

Jasmine gave him a look of disbelief and amusement. “Are you serious? How could I possibly make a four century old mythical being laugh?”

“Don’t think of me in so many adjectives,” he told her, his smile already forming from the thought of how she might attempt to bemuse him. “Just make me laugh.”

“You’re much better at entertaining yourself than I am.”

“What happens if a dare is lost?” he asked, stroking his beard in thought. “Is the one who has lost the dare now made to tell two truths?”

“Hold on, I haven’t lost yet,” she told him, putting a hand up for patience. She thought for a brief moment before launching into a story. “A few months back, the first son of the seventh wife of Atleeza came to seek my hand in marriage. He was an idiot of a boy, falsely confident and yet still incredibly nervous, and everything that could go wrong, did go wrong, and worse. It began when he was riding up the hill towards the palace on his horse with his entourage…”

The thing she knew about the genie was that he loved to hear about the misfortunes of others. She was sure that this particular story about an undeserving young man would tickle his fancy plenty. After she had told him how the prince found himself without a horse, without his entourage, and without his pants, the genie was laughing behind his large fist, his shoulders shaking in unfiltered glee.

“...what’s more, the prince bent over to pull his pants back up, but of course he didn’t have the wherewithal to realize the rose bush still had it’s thorns hooked into the threads.”

“Please, tell me he fell in it.”

“Of course, he did! He toppled over, head over heels, and we were all inundated with a second view of his ass.”

The genie laughed out and Jasmine continued.

“If I were a doctor, I could have done his examination from halfway across the courtyard.”

“I imagine he could have used a doctor,” the genie said through fits of laughter.

“I have no idea! He stood up, eyes wild, tiny puncture marks everywhere from the thorns, and hightailed away as fast as one could with his pants around his ankles.”

“Aha-ha! Is this a true story?”

“Every word of it. We haven’t had a prince from Atleeza come to the palace since.”

“How I would have enjoyed to be witness to such an atrocity,” Jafar said, his laughter settling down, but chuckles continued to escape him. “You are an excellent story teller.”

“I read quite a bit,” she shrugged. “I credit authors over the millennium for perfecting the craft.”

“I believe we’re still playing a game. Would you like to continue?”

“It’s my turn then? Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

She mulled it over for a moment. “If you were free from the lamp for the night, what would you do?”

He furrowed his brows. “I really don’t know. I’m sure I’d be grateful to be out, however.” He looked to the ceiling in thought, finally coming to a conclusion. “As I am bound within a fixed radius of the lamp, I believe if you were to place it on this table, I could sit out on your terrace and look out over Agrabah.”

“Wouldn’t people be able to see you?”

Jafar shook his head, held his hand over himself, and then suddenly he was gone.

“I certainly hope you’re invisible,” she said to the empty air.

“I could have not responded and given you a scare,” he replied. He was suddenly visible again, still sitting in his chair, and chuckling to himself. “However some people are not to be disrespected in such a manner. Present company included.”

“I thank you for that.”

“And now it’s my turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Jasmine stated.

There were some boundaries they both knew specifically not to cross. She did not dare him to appear as he did when he was a man and he did not ask her about her mother. But the night was nearing it’s end and Jafar might not have the chance to bring up the question that was probably gnawing at both their minds.

“Please tell me,” he asked, his voice taking on a softer tone, “when will you use your second wish?”

Jasmine’s eyes went sad and she slowly shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You could wish for a prince to marry who would make an excellent sultan when it is his time to rule.”

“I have certainly thought about that.”

“I promise to make your wish exactly to your specifications.”

“I know, Jafar. I just…” she swallowed hard and stared at the floor shamefully. It was clear there was something she wasn’t telling him, but he wasn’t sure if it was him or her own misgivings about the wish that was giving her pause. The problem with her second wish was that her third was already spoken for. As soon as her second was fulfilled, there was no reason to waste time on her third. He would be gone that same day, either free to live, or freed by death.

“I just need some time,” she finally told him.

He didn’t understand, but he nodded just the same. It was difficult to meet her eyes knowing that she was keeping him held to the lamp either through a selfish reason of her own or because she hadn’t yet decided to let him live or die.

Jasmine rose out of her chair, stretching with a yawn. “I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately.” She picked up his lamp and he waited for her to hold it up so that he could sift back in by her bidding, but instead she placed it on the table beside him.

“Good night, Jafar.”

He stared at the black lamp as he heard her behind him settle into the bed, ruffle the covers, and then draw them over herself. When he looked back, she was in a fetal position, eyes closed and comfortably beneath the blankets.

Jafar held his hand out towards the fire and squeezed his fingers into a fist. The fire obeyed, it’s light dimming under his power. He got up and looked over at Jasmine who already seemed to be asleep, though he doubted she was.

“Good night, Jasmine.”

Making his way to the terrace, he leaned up against the balcony and surveyed all of Agrabah from his position. Lights from the lanterns dotted the city below. He could see the many citizens either joining in camaraderie with their friends and family or heading home for the night. Beyond the city walls was the barren desert under a blanket of stars.

He magicked a hammock that hung in thin air, and he laid upon it, calmly reflecting on the Agrabah of the past and the Agrabah of the present. The kingdom had not changed much since his time. There was only one truly remarkable difference.

He glanced over into the darkness of Jasmine’s room where she lay slumbering in her bed. There were few he knew who had the capacity to change the world. Fewer still who deserved to. His thoughts busied him till sunrise.


	11. Chapter 11

Jasmine woke up to the sound of someone entering her room.

“Princess Jasmine?”

She bolted upright in bed where the maid was already approaching her with a fresh set of sheets.

“I knocked several times but you must not have heard,” the maid said. “Would you like me to come back later?”

Jasmine glanced to the lamp on the table, then to the terrace where the curtains were slightly open and the red genie lay swinging in a hammock transfixed to nothing at all.

Jasmine was not prepared for this, and having just woken up, her synapses were not firing quickly as they usually did. “Sorry, what?”

“I’ll just draw the curtains back,” the maid said as she went towards the terrace.

“The terr- No, wait-!”

The maid yanked the left one all the way open and was doing the same for the right. “What’s that, your highness?” she asked, giving her a look of concern. “Is that too bright?”

Jasmine was confused. Surely the maid had to have seen Jafar. He was out in the open with his arms behind his head, oscillating in his hammock while watching the conversation between them unfold.

“No, that’s perfect, thank you, Talia.”

The maid left with a bow and Jasmine hopped out of bed to approach the genie.

“Are you invisible right now?” she asked him in perplexity.

“To everyone but you,” he answered. “That was the only time I’ve ever seen you flustered.”

“I didn’t know she couldn’t see you.”

“But such a rare moment when you nearly disclosed yourself as mentally unbalanced,” he replied, unable to stifle his chuckle. “I’m glad to have been witness to such an event.”

Jasmine stared at him in annoyance before reaching out, taking hold of the side of his hammock, and yanking the side of it down. It was unexpected enough that he didn’t react in time. Jafar came tumbling out, metaphysical tail and all, as gravity pulled him down, and he hit the terrace with a hard thunk.

Jafar was beyond surprised as he shook his head out of his stupor before floating back up. “I didn’t even know any mortal had the capacity to give me the slip.”

“I guess no one has dared to defy you,” Jasmine replied as she leaned up against the railing of the balcony.

“Not since I was imprisoned inside the lamp.” He floated over and rested his arms on the railing beside her, looking towards the river where the sailboats were already out in droves.

Jasmine couldn’t stop glancing at his biceps as they swelled with raw strength, keeping him stabilized as he leaned. She had never seen him out in the sunlight and he seemed to be a lighter shade of red. The sun did a better job of highlighting all the sculpted areas of his body than the fire did.

He sighed and looked down to the ground far below them. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” Jasmine flinched back.

“You keep giving me odd looks.”

She considered lying to him, that she was only looking at something behind him, but that would have been disrespectful to one who deserved better.

“You look different in the daylight,” she told him. “And… you’re barely clothed.”

“I also don’t have legs. And you’ve never known me to wear clothes.”

“That should have been my question last night. Why don’t you wear clothes?”

“Were you clothed when you were born? From my birth as a powerful entity, I have never bothered with clothes. I am a genie, not a man. I don’t have to abide by social etiquette.”

“Fine,” she said, giving him a dismissive wave. “I was just wondering.”

“Does it bother you?” he asked.

“No, why should it bother me?”

“I wouldn’t know. But you seem bothered.”

“It doesn’t bother you? You can’t stand to be touched but you’ll allow anyone to ogle your muscled physique?”

“You’re ogling me?”

Jasmine threw her hands up in the air and turned with her back to him. “We’re starting over!” He didn’t quite understand until she disappeared past the curtains into her room and then just as quickly came back out on the terrace a second later.

“Good morning, Jafar,” she said cheerfully.

“That’s your plan? Ignore everything previously?”

Jasmine turned back around, stepped into her room and came back out again.

“Good morning, Jafar.”

Jafar grumbled but in his heart there formed a prospect of delight. It occurred to him that he hadn’t been vexed with this type of argument since the last time he was in a relationship with a woman. It had been a long time since he’d felt so human.

“Good morning, Jasmine.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She held her hand out towards the view. Jasmine looked at the sunrise with beams of light radiating her skin and hair waving wistfully in the wind. Her smile was happy and her youth camouflaged the maturity of her soul.

“Very,” he answered with a gentle tone. They stared out at the boats on the river as they sailed past Agrabah, occasionally making their way into the ports lining the bay.

“Have you ever been on a boat?” she asked him. Her eyes were trained on a specific boat with one red sail and one white.

“Of course,” he stated before realizing being on a boat was not a luxury just anyone had. He then asked her in genuine inquiry, “Have you?”

“No. The only time I recall ever leaving the palace, I got Aladdin arrested for kidnapping.”

He immediately felt bad. She had given him leeway outside the lamp and would potentially release him from his prison, but he hadn’t done the same for her. Jafar didn’t know what to say, but luckily she seemed to wave it off and continued with her own line of thought.

“I’ve always thought I’d enjoy sitting along the bow, with the wind whipping through my hair.”

“I’d have thought you were more prone towards the stern.”

“Are you saying because I have control issues?” she said, giving him a look of surprise. “Because you’re half right. I’d want to be the one at the rudder.”

“How do you know what a rudder is if you’ve never been on a boat?” he challenged.

“I’ve been preparing for the moment I get to sail,” she replied. “I know all that there is about a boat.”

“What’s the wooden trunk centered upright in the center of the boat called?”

“The mast. Give me a harder one.”

“How do you raise the sails?”

“Pull down on the halyard. Is that the best you can do?”

“Name the edges of the sail.”

“The head, the leech, the foot, and the luff,” she replied, ticking them off on her fingers.

“The luff?”

“The luff.”

“Are you sure that’s correct?”

Jasmine furrowed her brows and looked to the sailboats in confusion. “Yes?”

Jafar grinned maliciously and Jasmine smacked him up against his hard bicep. “It is the luff, isn’t it?” she said.

He nodded, laughing at his own joke when a blare of horns called through the air. It was faint but noticeable.

“Dear Allah, no,” Jasmine said as she turned her head towards the road that brought all visitors to the palace. “Please, not today.”

“I’m afraid so,” Jafar confirmed when he spotted the entourage climbing the path up the hill. “But perhaps your wish will come true without the use of a troublesome magic.”

“I don’t consider you troublesome.”

“Regardless, it is time to search for your future sultan.”

* * *

Jasmine went down to the receiving room and found her father and Omar already there.

“Oh, Jasmine!” her father said with uncontrollable giddiness. “Such wonderful news! Beyond those doors, not one but three princes are interested in meeting you!”

“Three?” Jasmine replied in shock.

“From the kingdom of Parakesh,” Omar remarked, a prideful smile crossed his face. She turned to look at him with ire in her expression and his smile faded back, replaced with confusion. “I thought you would be pleased.”

In truth, she didn’t know how she felt. It all depended on which princes of Parakesh had come this far to see her.

The doors opened and a parade of staff including guards, maids, treasurers, cooks, and all other manner of servants traveling with the princes came walking in followed by three coaches carried by strong men at each corner. The coaches were set down and the velvet curtains drawn back while three richly dressed men bowed low before the Sultan and his daughter.

Jasmine had to hand it to the artist that the Parakesh family had employed. Not only did she recognize them right away but the illustrator had somehow even captured their mannerisms. She didn’t like how her heart dropped at the sight of them, her hope dashed to the ground.

“May I offer to you, Prince Tarik, Prince Abdullah, and Prince Ali,” one of their announcers cried out. “Seventh son of the first wife, fifth son of the th-”

“I don’t think we need to get so detailed,” Jasmine interrupted as she waved at them to rise. “It’s good of you to come to Agrabah, my lords.”

“We came as soon as we received your Grand Vizier’s message,” Prince Tarik said.

“Oh?“ Jasmine said, glancing back at Omar in agitation. “I’m so glad that you did. Please, let’s go to the gardens and talk, shall we?” She looped her arms through two of the brother’s and led them out of the hall. “I can’t quite remember, but what did the message from the Grand Vizier say?”

“That you’re impressed by our family and that you’re interested in a union between our kingdoms,” Prince Abdullah answered.

“But your brother Prince Suliman was here less than a week ago. I can’t imagine he had nice things to say about me.”

“That little asshole?” Prince Ali replied. “We just figured he was his usual self and you called him out on it.”

“I’m glad to hear no offense was taken then,” Jasmine replied. “As I recall, Prince Suliman was the third son of the fifth wife. Are all the brothers from the fifth wife assholes?”

“I’m the first son of the fifth wife,” Prince Abdullah said, giving her a look of offense.

“So, yes!” Prince Ali exclaimed, and he and Prince Tarik laughed hysterically while Prince Abdullah fisted his hands into his hips and frowned at them.

Jasmine kept her notes in her head.

* * *

The brothers weren’t there to talk about the Parakesh family. They were there to win Jasmine’s heart and hand. It didn’t matter what questions she asked, they rarely gave an answer that was not directed back to their own perceived character. And then that would ultimately start an argument between the brothers in which Jasmine was quickly forgotten.

“What do you like to do?” she asked.

“Archery.”

“Sword fighting.”

“Travel.”

“Travel?” Jasmine responded. “Travel to where?”

“Atleeza.”

“The open sea.”

“Agrabah, for that’s where you are.”

In her mind, Jasmine took points away from Prince Abdullah because the line was so foolishly sentimental.

“Do any of your brothers like to travel?”

“No.”

“No.”

“I’m the most traveled of all of us,” Prince Tarik stated. He then launched into a story about going through the Hambrani desert with only a disabled camel, an untrained hawk, and his second best robe.

“...and so I ordered my hawk to collect anything to eat-”

A few sentences in, Prince Ali began to contest the story saying, “That’s nonsense. It takes years to train a hawk.”

“You don’t know anything about hawks then,” Prince Tarik told him.

“Neither do you,” Prince Abdullah remarked.

“You’re a liar.”

“You’re just trying to impress the Princess with falsehoods.”

“Nuh-uh!”

And then a fist fight broke out where the guards from both kingdoms had to break it up and send the prince’s back to their rooms to consider their actions.

* * *

As soon as Jafar was out of his lamp, he prodded her for the news.

“So,” he said with a malicious grin, “how did it go? Any cowering princes with their tails between their legs?”

“No,” she replied. “Though you might get a kick out of this one.”

When she was done with the day’s events, Jafar was amused but perplexed. “Three princes? From the same kingdom? At once? Why?”

Jasmine sighed out and looked to the ceiling in shame. “For some reason, Omar, my father’s grand vizier, thinks I’m interested in one of the princes from Parakesh.”

“Ah,” Jafar replied. He paused for a moment. “Are you?”

“Who knows?” Jasmine responded with a shrug.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I…might have a system that I use. I’ve been taking all the research and gossip I hear from servants of other kingdoms and applying it to a method in which I rate which princes might best serve as next sultan.”

“And Omar is aware of this?”

“He knows I have a system. He only thinks it applies to the Parakesh family, but I’ve rated all the princes in the five kingdoms and even some outside of it.”

“I feel you are intentionally withholding something,” Jafar said, folding his arms across his chest as he glared at her. “Is Omar wrong?”

Jasmine stared at him with narrowed eyes. “There is more to dread in a perceptive genie than just his magic.”

“I’m afraid few escape my insight,” he replied. “Tell me your secret.”

“I’ll warn you that you will be disappointed by the lack of lewdness in it.”

“Then it shouldn’t be too difficult a secret to tell.”

“I will tell you, but with one condition.” Jasmine didn’t know what propelled her to make this provision, but her words were coming out faster than she could think them through. “Either you tell me a secret of yours or you allow me the practice of relieving your ailment through immersion.”

Jafar swallowed hard. When he didn’t answer, Jasmine urged him on, thereby doubling down. “Tell or touch. What will it be? Or perhaps you don’t care about my secret at all?”

“I suspect few escape your insight as well,” he said with a resigned sigh. He crooked his index finger at her. “Come here.”

Jasmine didn’t know what to expect. She came towards him as he solidified his legs to replace his genie tail. “This is more for your benefit than mine,” he told her as he held his hand out for her to take. As soon as she placed her hand in his, he brought her to him like they had just met on the dance floor. “I suspect you’ve had lessons, but how comfortable are you with the proximity?” He snapped his fingers and music filtered through the air of it’s own accord.

“I know how to dance,” she said. “As a princess, it’s required.”

“Then show me,” he replied.

“I think I’ve drawn the short end of this stick since you seem to be enjoying my discomfort,” she said, gripping his hand and placing her other on his shoulder. As soon as her palm lay flat on his deltoids, she inhaled at the touch of his firm muscle and the warmth it stimulated within her. The inspiration manifested inside her where it was nowhere near where they touched, and it made little sense to her.

“Does it hurt?” he asked her once he placed his hand at the middle of her bare back.

“It’s hard to tell.” She gently squeezed her fingers into his shoulder, testing the hardness of his muscle. “Do you feel any pain?”

“Yes,” he said thickly and had to swallow again. “But you would know.”

She did. It was like electricity entering where they touched, a doorway into her body where it traveled through her veins to her heart, then shocked it into a faster beat. However, the pain wasn’t originating from their touch, but rather through her nervous response where her brain told her she was undeserving, and unloved, and that this was forbidden.

“It’s…frightening,” she said softly.

“I know.”

She glanced at their hands clasped together with a furrowed brow. “But oddly pleasant.”

He smiled and raised her hand a little higher. “It is,” he agreed. He swayed with the rhythm of the music, letting her dictate the pace of their dance. She held him at half an arm’s length and he followed her step.

“I can tell you’re too focused on the closeness between us,” she said after a while. “Loosen up, Jafar. This was your idea, after all.”

“I don’t recall having this proximity to any human in four hundred years,” he responded, dancing a wide arc in her room. “Give me time. Even your imposing nature cannot force a habit out of existence.”

“For what it’s worth, you surprise me with your foot work. I wouldn’t have thought a genie would be such a good dancer, especially since you don’t usually have feet to practice with.”

“I may not have feet, but I have been practicing.”

“You…what? How?”

“In my lamp.”

“But I thought you said you were alone in the lamp.”

“I am. That’s a secret for another time.”

“We have time right now. Tell me how you’ve become such an amazing dance partner.”

“Thank you for the encouragement, but I know what you’re doing.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to disguise your discomfort with idle talk.”

She looked away in guilt. “It’s difficult enough even without your intuition,” she said, turning her head so he couldn’t see her expressions. “I don’t know how else to get over my anxiety.”

“Perhaps if you distracted yourself,” he replied. “Talk about something that requires more depth. A secret, if you will.”

She huffed at his audacity, though charmed into it as well. “I guess you’ve earned it.”

“Then tell me, Jasmine, do you have a prince in mind? Someone you wish to come woo you?”

“It’s not romance that I desire from him.”

“Who is this prince?”

“The second son of the first wife of Parakesh.”

“A second son?” Jafar mused. “The second in line to the throne.”

“Yes. Not much is known about him but I am told he is smart enough to have finished his studies early and to have graduated the first in his class. After he learned all he could in the five kingdoms, he traveled across the land and through the west, picking up more ideas and disciplines.”

“Is this why you consider him a possible sultan of Agrabah?”

“I’ve also heard he is interested in charitable work, which is certainly a becoming trait. But that’s literally all I know of him. The servants don’t speak of him much. He doesn’t seem to stir up any drama to fulfill the gossip mill, and even if he did, he might be traveling too often and too far abroad for gossip to reach us.”

“If you’re so interested, why not send him a message to visit?”

Jasmine gave Jafar a glare as though he’d grown two heads. “Absolutely not. A prince second in line for the throne of his own kingdom might prefer to stay bounded to it in case he is called up to lead the people he knows. I doubt a man as sensible as he would be interested in coming to a foreign kingdom to meet a much younger woman.”

“Ah, right, a second born son would be one of the eldest brothers.”

“Younger only to the future Sultan of Parakesh.”

“Still, it couldn’t hurt to send a request to meet.”

“Of course, it can. If I make a request then I’ve revealed to Omar the one prince who bears any significance to me. I don’t know what Omar’s angle is, but he’s been too invested in finding my future prince.”

“I don’t mean to play devil’s advocate, but that doesn’t sound suspicious.”

“There are other things about Omar that aren’t relevant right now but weigh heavily against his trustworthiness.”

“Fair enough. Aside from Omar’s dubious tactics, what other issues could a request cause?”

“Aside from my embarrassment? The genetic traits I’ve witnessed within the Parakesh family so far have not boosted my confidence. As of yet, not one prince of Parakesh could be remotely considered a decent enough specimen. How disappointing it would be for my idealized version of the second son to be dashed if upon meeting him it turns out he is as much an imbecile and an ass as the others.” She turned to look away in resentment. “And if my father thought there was a possibility that I should fall in love…? Well, the pressure is too great to commit to sending out for a man who I might potentially despise but end up siring his children anyway.”

The despair placed on her mind was great enough that he could feel the suffering it caused in her grip at his shoulders. Worry had tensed her whole body. It was unlike Jafar to feel empathy, but at the moment he had a longing to comfort her because he knew what it was like to feel alone in his problems. With hands at her waist, he gently drew her in so that their bodies pressed together while they drifted with the music. Her response was to gratefully submit to the gesture with a melancholic sigh.

He felt her fingers slip behind his neck and her arm glide around his shoulder, and as soon as she was at ease her head relaxed against his chest just under his chin. Eventually Jasmine slowed their steps so that they were mostly stationary in their dance but lightly swaying on their feet. The strain of their contact had simmered though the fire between them was still there and growing hotter.

“Jafar?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, Jasmine?”

“Why, as a mythical being, immortal through time,” she wondered. “Why is it that you have a heart beat?”

He smiled. “Blood flows through my veins though that does not mean I can be killed by a sword,” he told her. “It would take an act of supreme magic and will to destroy me.”

“Your magic.”

“Yes.”

They sway in silence a little longer while their embrace tightened with listless movements so miniscule that neither had realized they had stopped dancing until the music he had summoned began another song. She looked up at him and he smiled down at her, then they broke apart though their fingers grazed off the other like drops of rain, lingering until forced to fall away.

“If I’m to meet with the princes tomorrow, I’ll need my sleep,” Jasmine said.

“I understand.”

“Now, I’m about to disclose another secret to you, so please don’t laugh.”

“Of course not,” he replied, though just the fact she told him not to laugh had already caused a smile to form on his mouth.

“I said don’t laugh.”

“I’m not!” he remarked with hands up in no contest. “I don’t even know what it is.”

“I have to make notes before I forget.” Jasmine went to her bed and fished under the mattress, pulling out her books and choosing one then shoving the rest back in. “This won’t take long.”

“Do the royal families still send out illustrations of the available members to wed?” Jafar asked.

While Jasmine was making notes in her book, she held up one of the illustrations and waved it in the air as evidence. “Yes. And I’m sure it’s still as pretentious as it was in your time.”

“I wasn’t a royal. I never had my likeness illustrated, and certainly not distributed through the five kingdoms.”

“That’s too bad. I would have liked to have seen the tall, bony Grand Vizier of the Hamish court of Agrabah.”

“I can guarantee that you would have bypassed my face as quickly as the others. It would have been a waste of a talented artist’s effort.”

“I refuse to believe that’s true,” Jasmine said, closing her book and stuffing it back under the mattress.

“That seems like an inadequate hiding spot,” Jafar said.

“It’s all I can do for now. Omar has been snooping through the library.” She looked at Jafar and noticed that he had an expression she was versed enough with to know that he was pondering something. “You’re not going to suggest I hide my books in your lamp, are you?”

“Would it have been so unwise?”

“I would have even less control of them inside your lamp than under my bed. I’ll keep them where they are, thank you very much.”

“As you wish.” He had turned his legs back into his genie’s tail and was floating towards the balcony. “I was just offering another solution.”

“Hold on, Jafar,” she called back. “Are you leaving?”

“I assumed you wished to be alone while you slept.”

“Actually, will you keep me company a little longer?”

He quirked a brow at her and she offered up a feeble excuse. “I just feel safer with you nearby.”

Jafar nodded and came back closer, sitting on her bed where she was already tucking herself in. “I suspect you have a question but don’t know how to ask.”

“I hope it’s not intrusive of me, but how did you become a genie? Are all genies once men?”

“While the trauma is difficult to speak of, I can tell you that all genies were most certainly men at one time and that the reason there are so few of them is because of the sorcery involved to transform someone into such a state of abominable slavery.”

“How many sorcerers did it take to subject you to this life?”

“I battled many at once, however there was only one sorcerer who had the skills and the power to wield such a magic. Me.”

“You?” Jasmine said, perplexity raising her voice. “You made yourself into a genie?”

“It was either that or be cast into torment for a thousand years. When I was finally captured by the armies of the five kingdoms, their sorcerers committed to punishing me in as extreme a way as possible. As they tried to magically cast me into a dimension of hell, I used their own sorcery against them but at the cost of sacrificing my life to the servitude of the natural elements of magic of which sorcery is built upon. Only a sorcerer of amazing potential and strength could transform into something as mystical as an all-powerful genie.”

“How did they capture you? I imagine it was quite a fight.”

Jafar laughed a deep sound. “You would be right. Though I did not summon an army of undead, like your tales recount. It was an army of devils brought forth from the pits of hell…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q. How do you make a genie realize he's falling in love?  
A. Make someone for him to be jealous of.
> 
> Sorry for the lack of action in this chapter. These are mostly 'getting to know you' scenes. Thank you to everyone still reading!


	12. Chapter 12

Jasmine woke up to two thirds of her bed spoken for. Bewildered, she turned around and spotted the genie laying atop the blankets and fast asleep beside her. She sat up and poked him in the shoulder. Jafar snickered awake and glanced around in a daze.

“You sleep?” she asked.

Jafar sat up and rubbed his forehead while stifling a yawn. “Genies are able to sleep,” he answered. “However, they do not need to sleep.”

Jasmine was glad no one had entered her room since there was no explaining a giant, mostly naked, red man asleep in her bed beside her. Regardless of that, she jumped out of bed, knocking the contents of the night table onto the floor, and hopped over to her curtains to reveal a sun past sunrise. “It’s late! I need to get ready to meet the prince’s of Parakesh.”

"Are you that eager to entertain?" he asked with an arched brow.

"Of course not," she said after disappearing behind the changing screen. "But I don't want to embarrass father by being late."

“So, now that I know you have your rating methods,” Jafar said, putting his hands behind his head and laying back down against the pillows. “Where do these princes rate?”

He could hear her quickly discarding her sleeping gown and ruffling through other outfits. “Prince Tarik has the highest mark at 55. The other two are rated less than him because the entire staff can’t stand them.”

“How are you hearing all this gossip, by the way?”

“Mostly from Talia. I don’t even have to ask, she’s just always been free with her information. But also, the staff room is just below the library. If you go to the southwest window, you can hear the gossip from below. Since there’s a little fountain area set into the wall across from the windows, the sound bounces off the brick and back to the windows like an echo. Makes it easy to hear every word that is said.”

"Ah, I see." Jafar waited a beat. "And the second son? What rating have you given him?"

"What does that matter?" she called out.

"It doesn't," he was too quick to retort. "But, just for comparable measures, where does that put the other princes?"

"The second son is a 91."

"Hmm..." Jafar mused. "That seems exaggerated."

"What?" she asked from behind the panels, her voice slightly muffled.

"What?" he stalled.

Jasmine came back from around the screen fully dressed for the day. She wore a red outfit that accentuated her curves and brought out her beauty.

Jafar, as soon as he saw her, gaped at her with wide eyes. “You’re going dressed like that?” he asked.

“Why not?” she asked as she hastily brushed her hair.

“It’s so formal. Are you trying to make an impression on them?”

“I already told you that I'm not,” she replied, rushing around to apply a little make up.

“Are you hoping the second son will hear back from his brother’s about you?”

“I’m late, Jafar. We’ll discuss this when I come back.”

“When will that be?”

“I don’t know,” she said impatiently. “But be a good boy while I’m gone.” Jasmine pulled the door open and shut it behind her with a quick fling. He heard her quick steps down the hall as she walked with purpose towards her destination.

Jafar was still skeptical about her behavior. True, he hadn’t known her long but he knew her enough to know that she was a woman whose actions were methodical, and that red dress was not meant for breakfasting.

It was then he noticed his lamp lying on the floor next to strewn quill pens, scattered papers, and a bottle of perfume.

Testing his free reign, he floated towards the terrace but he didn’t even make it past the fireplace when his manacles stopped him short in mid-air and he was no longer able to move beyond the invisible boundary. With no way of moving the lamp, Jafar sat on Jasmine’s bed and stewed on his own misfortune.

* * *

Jasmine fast-walked towards the dining room but managed to spy someone down the hallway as she passed. Doubling back, she made sure it wasn’t Aladdin forgetting that he was required to greet the guests that morning. She had seen him go into his room, so she knocked once and then opened the door.

“Hey, are you-?” Jasmine froze when she spotted Omar searching beneath Aladdin’s mattress. He shot up, stiff in shock, and with a look of horror across his face. As soon as she was released from her initial surprise, Jasmine slammed the door behind her and stalked to Omar with a finger pointed in his face. “What are you doing in Ali’s room?” she demanded.

“I was simply trying to…um…to…that is, Prince Ali asked me to…uh…” Omar stammered.

“You’re trying to get Ali kicked out of the palace, aren’t you?” Jasmine said, putting her hands on her hips.

“I am not trying to get him kicked out,” Omar said, regaining his dignity. “I am looking for evidence that he is not your mother’s son. You should be glad that I am trying to prove your mother did not have a bastard out of wedlock.”

“I have no idea if she did or didn’t, but Ali is here now and has done nothing wrong. Just leave him be. He’s harmless.”

“He’s not harmless,” Omar said in repulsion. “The boy is a homeless, thieving, undignified oaf who has no business acting like he has any part of this royal family. I cannot believe he has you all tricked into thinking he belongs.”

“Please, Omar, we all know that Ali doesn’t have a claim to familial ties, but a promise was made, my father is inclined to uphold his end, and that’s all there is to it. Ali is no longer homeless, hasn’t stolen anything, and is only undignified by your standards alone. Get off your high horse.”

“Not stolen anything?” Omar said, straightening up as tall as a short man can, and carrying himself that indicated only he understood the truth. “That’s why I’m here. To prove that he’s still a thief.”

“So prove it! Show me the evidence that Ali is a thieving scoundrel,” she dared him.

Omar glared at her with a frown. “I can’t,” he said, making his way to the door. “But one day I will.”

“And one day I’ll have the power to get rid of you,” she called. He glared back at her in anger before exiting the room with a hard step.

* * *

Jasmine didn’t have time to tell Aladdin what had happened in his room. As soon as she made her way to the dining room she was accosted by Prince Abdullah who waved a bunch of flowers at her.

“Here!” he said, handing them to her like getting rid of a hot potato. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.” She didn’t even get a chance to thank him, though she wasn’t exactly thankful.

“Come sit down next to me,” Prince Tarik called to her, patting the chair beside him. “I saved a spot for you.”

Jasmine entered, taking the seat that was indicated to her only as a means of not being rude. Her father was still gleeful over the fact there were three prospective suitors for his daughter who he wanted so badly to see wedded to a young prince.

“What a wonderful breakfast this will be, even if we’re starting a little late,” he said as Aladdin entered with an embarrassed smile and sat down on the other side of Jasmine.

“Who are these guys?” he said under his breath to her. She flinched back in confusion. How had he not heard?

“Isn’t it nice to have two Prince Ali’s at this very table, hmm…?” the Sultan said, looking to Aladdin expectantly. Aladdin glanced around in puzzlement until Jasmine prodded him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Uh, yes! Right!” Aladdin exclaimed. “I’m Prince Ali.” That was the moment Jasmine realized Aladdin had forgotten the name he’d given himself.

“And so am I,” the Parakesh prince added.

“You are?” Aladdin asked in surprise. “I mean, of course you are.”

“Let’s just eat,” Jasmine said.

* * *

The conversation at breakfast was entirely on Jasmine so she had no respite during to tell Aladdin about Omar. As soon as breakfast was over, Prince Ali grabbed her hand and took her to the gardens.

“Let’s have a walk, just you and me,” he said, taking her hand in his.

Jasmine allowed it, but her grip was rather weak. “I hear Parakesh is considering giving a stipend to families who have older generations past retirement living in their homes,” she said, feeling the sweat on his hand collect under her palm. She grimaced.

“That’s something the sons of the first wife would know,” Prince Ali said with a resenting tone. “But surely you don’t care about that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You?” he laughed. “What do the people of Parakesh matter to you at all?”

“Don’t they matter to you?”

“Only if they pay their taxes.”

By now Jasmine figured enough time had elapsed that she could take back her hand without looking rude. She hoped her expression had not betrayed how she had hated every second of his touch.

“So only the sons of the first wives know, huh? Just out of curiosity, how many of them are there?”

“Seven, I think,” he replied, thinking on it. “No, wait. Eight.”

“Tell me about them.”

“They’re all pompous dicks.”

Their brief walk through the garden had been uneventful and she learned nothing at all about any of the other brothers because everything she asked was redirected to be about him. It didn’t take long till she feigned a headache (which wasn’t too far from the truth) and took her absence from him.

She went to seek out Aladdin.

* * *

It hadn’t been long after Jasmine left that Jafar realized he could read through the books she had hidden under her bed. Currently, he was sitting on the mattress, presumably right on top of the books, thinking how disrespectful it would be to snoop through her things.

But what kind of man would draw a woman like Jasmine? What kind of feats did this prince overcome that could possibly rival Jafar’s when he had been a man? For over an hour it was eating at his mind, tempting him to take a peek.

Suddenly, the door began to open with a covert slowness and Jafar made himself invisible to the intruder as they came in and silently shut the door behind them. A short man in blue robes glanced about the chamber with a clear goal in place. Jafar deduced this must be the Grand Vizier Omar.

Omar stepped lightly across the room to Jasmine’s sitting area where he saw a stack of books sitting on top of a table. He began to rifle through them, flipping through the pages for something specific.

Jafar glanced to his lamp still lying on the floor on the other side of the bed unseen. There were plenty of lamps in Agrabah that having one was not so suspicious, however Omar seemed smart enough to know that Jasmine would not be someone who was in need a lamp and definitely not one so old. A student of history might even come across it knowing that it was as ancient and important as it looked. Omar, with his duties as a Grand Vizier, was very likely to be a historian.

The Grand Vizier found another pile of books to rifle through and Jafar prepared for trouble. He was here for Jasmine’s research on the Parakesh family, but it wouldn’t do them good if he stumbled upon the lamp.

Suddenly another knock at the door prompted Omar to hide behind the changing screen just as Talia came striding in.

“Princess Jasmine?” the maid asked, looking around and finding no one. Behind the screen, Omar huddled in quiet. Talia started to tidy the room, straightening the books that Omar had read through and wiping down the surfaces of the tables until she walked around the bed and saw the mess on the floor. She fisted into her hips and clucked her tongue at the scene. “Well, this is hardly like Jasmine,” she said to herself. She collected all the items, including the lamp, and placed them neatly on the night table.

Jafar glanced over at Omar, still hiding behind the screen, making sure he had not seen the lamp that was now in plain view.

With sheets in hand and a whistle as she worked, Talia began to strip the bed.

Jafar watched with growing dread, knowing that Jasmine had shoved the books too quickly under the bed last night to have properly hidden them well. She had been too rushed that morning to shove the books in further, and now they were waiting to be discovered by the unsuspecting maid.

From behind the screen, Omar peeked out, glancing at the door as he did so. His eyes went back to the maid and Jafar saw his brows furrow in puzzlement when his attention was drawn towards the night table.

At the same time, Talia was stuffing the sheets under the mattress when she felt the corner of one of the books prick at her finger.

“What’s this?” she asked as she pushed one side of the mattress up so that she could look underneath.

“What’s that?” Omar mouthed to himself as he squinted in the direction of the lamp.

Jafar looked outside to see a streak of red pass by. In an instant, he grabbed it with his magical reach and yanked it out of the sky and into the room with a whirl. It was a parrot. A large, clumsy, fat parrot. It cried out in surprise, flew around the room in a panic and somehow rooted it’s claws in Talia’s hair.

Talia screamed, dropping the mattress and slapping at the bird to get it away.

“Caw!” the parrot squawked as it’s talons got more tangled in her hair. “Craaaaw!”

Omar watched in open-mouthed horror. His eyes darted from the maid to the door and back to the maid again in increasing panic.

“Get off me!” Talia screamed. She continued to whack at the bird, circling the floor as she fought it, and bumped into a small table where the vase came crashing to the floor. “Help!”

Without hesitation, Omar jumped out from behind the screen and came to her, and with both hands he gripped the bird. He was able to dislodge the parrot out of her hair but now it flew around the room in hysteria while cawing mercilessly and trying to figure out how to escape. Omar grabbed at it but it managed to dodge him and the Grand Vizier fell into the table, knocking the whole thing over.

“Get out, you stupid bird!” Talia yelled. Picking up a shard of the vase, she threw it at the bird. It missed and sailed out towards the terrace, over the balcony railing, and crashing down below.

* * *

Jasmine was on the lookout for Aladdin and was growing increasingly frustrated that she couldn’t find him.

“Hey, Princess Jasmine!”

She groaned out in resentment before turning towards the voice with a fake smile.

“Prince Tarik!” she said. “It was so nice to visit with you at breakfast this morning. But I really must run-”

“That is a very stunning dress,” he replied, with hands out wide in what looked like a request for a hug. She ignored it.

“Thank you. Why don’t we meet up lat-”

“My brothers would be so jealous if I showed up with you on my arm.”

Jasmine paused in thought. “Aren’t you the seventh son of the first wife?” she asked.

“That’s right,” he stated proudly. “My mother is the first and favorite wife of my father’s. She is mother to a future sultan. Possibly two, if you play your cards right.” He shot her a wide mouthed, hard pressed wink.

Putting her search of Aladdin on the back burner, she took his arm in hers and looked at him with a flirt. “Tell me more about your full brothers. Which one is the smartest?”

Prince Tarik looked up to the sky and squinted hard. “Probably my second oldest brother. At least he got the highest marks in school anyway.”

Jasmine’s heart leapt. Finally, she was getting somewhere. “Oh? How smart is he? Does he talk about politics? Medicine? Law?”

“All the damned time,” Tarik said with a roll of his eyes. “He’s so arrogant and boring. Right now he’s all about ancient history and mythological stuff though.”

“Mythological stuff?” Jasmine questioned.

“Yeah, like magic and all that horseshit. The guy is a kook. He’ll travel really far to the worst places just to find something he read about in a super old book.”

That was strange to discover but not exactly an off putting account about the second son. She was about to ask for more detail when suddenly there was a scream and then a shard of pottery came sailing out of the sky, shattering into a million pieces on the path at Jasmine’s feet. She looked up in alarm to see her balcony directly above her. Without a second’s hesitation, Jasmine was running to her room.

* * *

Omar and Talia were still trying to swat the parrot out of the room when Jasmine came barging in, winded and alert.

“It came in through the terrace window!” Talia screamed at Jasmine once she saw her. “I can’t get it out!”

“Shoo!” Jasmine said to the bird. Immediately obeying her command, the parrot cawed at them and flew in a straight line out the window and into the blue sky till it was out of sight.

Talia sat down with a hefty sigh of relief while Omar held her hand in concern. “That’s probably the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Talia said. “Well, except for that time at my cousin’s wedding.”

Jasmine glanced around her room to find it in terrible disarray, but she was most alarmed about the genie. She looked to the table where she had last remembered the lamp to be and noticed it missing.

“What are you doing in here, Omar?” she demanded, pointing her finger at him.

“Why, I heard a commotion! I came in to help!” he replied.

“It’s true, your highness,” Talia remarked. “He wasn’t here until the bird attacked me.”

Still suspicious, Jasmine gave Omar a skeptical look as she bent down to take Talia’s hand. “Go downstairs and get some rest, Talia,” Jasmine told her as she helped her up.

“Why don’t you take the day off, in fact,” Omar added.

“Yeah, I think I will,” Talia agreed as she allowed them to lift her to her feet. Omar gave his arm to the maid and she took it, leaning on him as they left the room. As soon as they were gone, Jasmine shut the door behind them.

“Jafar!” Jasmine whisper shouted as she crept around the room looking for the lamp. The table was overturned, her books were scattered, there were broken shards of pottery, and loose Crate pieces strewn about the floor. “Jafar, where are you?”

“That could have gone better.”

Jasmine jumped and spun around to face Jafar with her hand over her heart. “Dammit, don’t scare me like that.”

“The Grand Vizier was definitely in the room before the maid.”

“I figured. Why did she cover for him?”

“She didn’t realize he was here at the time.”

“I see,” Jasmine said, somberly looking around the room. “What the hell happened here?”

“I won’t go into detail but there was a most unfortunate predicament about to occur concerning your books and my lamp. I found a distraction.”

“Yes, well, thank you, Jafar. I’d better get this cleaned up,” she replied as she picked up a few of the Crate pieces lying at her feet, “which could take a while, so that at least solve-”

Jafar snapped his fingers and the room righted itself of it’s own accord. The table lifted itself and the books piled on top of it in neat order. The vase magically became whole and everything on the floor went back to their respective places. The only thing left lying was the lamp since Jafar had no control over it.

Jasmine looked around at the clean room and gave a simple laugh. “There goes my excuse not to spend time with the princes.”

“I could summon another parrot if you like.”

“Let’s not go that route.” Jasmine went to her bed and retrieved the books from under it. “I don’t know where to hide these.”

Jafar snapped his fingers again. An outlet appeared in her wall next to the entrance to the terrace. “You could stash everything in there, including the lamp,” he suggested.

“That’ll work,” she said as she shoved everything into the outlet and shut the door. It was flush to the wall, making it appear nothing was there except for a small hole for her to put her finger in and draw it open again.

There was a knock at her door and they both stopped to look at it in wary when her father burst in the room. “Oh, my dear, Jasmine!” he exclaimed as he bounded to her with arms held out. “I heard you were almost killed by a bird!” Jasmine glanced up at Jafar while her father squeezed her around her midsection. The genie stood back, bulky arms crossing his chest, and smiled at her father’s concern.

“I was not almost killed,” Jasmine told him. “I wasn’t even here. Talia was the one who was attacked.”

“Oh, that poor girl,” the Sultan said. “Let’s give her a raise!”

“I think she would appreciate that,” Jasmine replied, leading him out of her room.

“Yes, I think she would,” the Sultan continued. “I’ve been looking at the budget, and I’m sure we have the funds to add to her salary.”

“You’ve been going over the budget, have you?” she asked.

“Certainly! My fiduciary minister has been helping, of course, but he and I have some ideas that could potentially allocate funds that don’t have any current potential, and put them to use towards the city’s infrastructure. More jobs, Jasmine!”

“I’d love to hear all about that, father,” she said, glancing back at Jafar as she exited the room. Jasmine shot him a look that conveyed ‘thank you, but be a good boy.’ He gave her a loose two finger salute and a cheeky grin. As soon as they were gone, he went out to the terrace, smiled in the sunshine, and looked out over Agrabah in contentment.

* * *

Later that day, after having to give every excuse in the book to get her father to let her leave his side, Jasmine found Aladdin at the stables. She entered the barn to see him snogging Noor behind the manure buckets.

“Oh, shit!” Aladdin cried out as soon as she turned the corner and discovered them.

“Shit is right,” Jasmine replied, holding her nose due to the smell. “I’ve been looking fo-”

“I need to tell you something, Jasmine,” he said, coming quickly to her after leaving Noor behind to stare at him in bewilderment. He took Jasmine’s hand in both of his and exhaled out forcefully. “Jas, I can’t be with you.”

She gave him a look of disbelief. “Of course, you can’t. I’m your sister.”

Aladdin was more relieved than he should have been. He clasped his hand over his heart and breathed out in heavy, uneven cadence. “Oh, thank god. I thought you’d be mad at me.”

“Why the hell…?” she began, glancing to Noor and shaking her head. “Listen, I came looking for you because I need to tell you that Omar was in your room this morning.”

“Omar was in my room? Why?”

“He was searching for something.”

“Like what?” Aladdin asked himself.

“I don’t know but be careful of him.”

“I don’t have anything,” Aladdin mused to himself. He scratched his head in thought like a child. “Can’t be my locket… I gave that back to the Sultan. The lamp? But that’s back in the Cave of Wonders…”

Jasmine was miffed that he would say it out loud but pretended not to hear since the less said about it, the better. “Just watch your back, _Ali,_” she reminded him. There was no way he was going to be able to keep up this charade, and she hoped it didn’t come back to bite her in the ass someday.

“Of course!” he replied. “You don’t need to tell me twice. I just hope Omar’s not at the meeting tomorrow.”

“Meeting?” Jasmine asked with brows raised up her forehead. “What meeting?”

“I dunno,” Aladdin shrugged. “Something your father wanted to do to keep me busy, I think. It’s about the books in the library?”

“Ah, well, do your best and keep practicing your handwriting,” she told him as she turned to leave, but not without first waving to the woman behind him. “Bye, Noor!”

“Bye, Princess Jasmine!” she called back. Once Jasmine had turned the corner, she overheard Noor chastise Aladdin. “What the hell was that about you saying you can’t be with her, huh?”

* * *

At least Aladdin was out of her hair, but she now had another issue. The three princes, who were always at odds with one another were still waiting to court her. She spent the rest of the day with them trying to get more information out of Prince Tarik but he grew suspicious when she kept prying about his older brother. Even if he was willing to talk about the second son, the other two were constant distractors. By night, even her father was annoyed by their behaviors.

“Don’t you boys ever get along?” he asked as they all sat down in the lounge after dinner.

“The problem with my brothers is that they take after their mothers,” Prince Ali stated.

“We would say the same about you except that we wouldn’t know since she doesn’t care enough about her children to step outside the wives’ wing of the palace,” Prince Tarik replied. Another fist fight broke out and the guards had to break them up.

“Don’t worry about them,” Prince Abdullah told Jasmine while she watched the other two try to calm down. “They’re boys. Why don’t we spend some time together, huh? We’re the adults here.”

“Would you like to play some Crate?” she asked.

“Nah, Crate is stupid.”

Jasmine quickly stood up from her seat. “Thank you for coming to Agrabah,” she proclaimed. “But I think it’s time for you to leave.” She huffed away with her father at her heels.

Behind her she could hear Prince Tarik tell his brothers, “Soolie was right. She is a bitch.”

* * *

Jafar watched the scene in the courtyard from Jasmine’s terrace. At the moment, the three prince’s of Parakesh had walked out of the palace, looked around to make sure they were alone, and then one of them surreptitiously pulled a bag out of his pocket and they all took turns smoking from the pipe they had stuffed.

The genie heard Jasmine come back with loud steps, indicating her evening had been rather lousy.

“Jafar?” she called.

“Over here,” he replied. She drew back the curtain and saw him at the balcony.

“What ar-?”

“Shh,” he said, waving her over without taking his eyes off the three princes. “Come see this.”

Jasmine went to stand next to him and did a double take at his legs. “No tail today?”

“It would look like I was coming from out of the wall,” he said.

“And that’s a problem?”

“Just look.”

She focused down to where he pointed. Even though they were trying to stay hidden near the bushes, it was easy to make out the three princes puffing away at a pipe, giggling as they glanced all around for any threats.

“I should call the guards on them,” she said.

“What would the guards do? I’m actually surprised they had the notion not to get high in plain sight. If the kingdom busts them with drugs, there will be bad blood between Agrabah and Parakesh.”

“Good point, but dissatisfying,” Jasmine replied as she looked down on them in repulsion. She was surprised when Jafar nudged his elbow into her arm, and when she looked up at him he grinned mischievously at her. “What? No! I’m not wasting a second wish on the misfortune of those guys.”

“Then I’ll have to make do without the direction of a master,” Jafar said as he finger gunned at the boys.

Prince Tarik had the pipe in his mouth, sucking long and hard to get the effects of it deep in his lungs, when a small explosion banged at the chamber opening. It was loud enough to make the prince jump in alarm.

“What did you do?” Prince Abdullah asked, snatching the pipe away and inspecting it closely.

“Nothing! I swear!”

They all came close together, eyeing the pipe for any defects. From up on the balcony, Jasmine touched Jafar’s forearm, causing him to turn to look at her. She had a big smile on her face and she nodded for his immediate action. Jafar pointed and shot again.

This time the explosion was bigger. The hash inside the pipe burst out with a loud bang and the burning ash flew right into their faces. The three princes screamed out in terror and covered their faces with their hands. Some of the red ash landed on Prince Ali’s jacket and, with a little of Jafar’s ministrations, caught fire.

“Oh, shit, I’m on fire!” Prince Ali cried out as he tried to pat out the growing flames. It was odd how the fire dispersed to the other side of his jacket to the back of his pants, almost like through magical intervention. Prince Ali dropped to the ground and began to roll around on the grass with his two brothers on their knees slapping at his backside to smother out the fire.

Their ruckus had been so loud as to attract several nearby guards. They came through the clearing, ready for intruders, and instead stopped short when they spied two princes’ spanking at their brother’s charred ass as he lay prone on the ground.

“We’ll just leave you to it, then,” one guard said as he backed slowly away from the scene, and the rest followed.

“This isn’t what it looks like!” Prince Tarik yelled at them, though his voice cracked in humiliation.

* * *

Jasmine and Jafar could hardly make it inside before they burst out laughing.

“I’m not sure how Prince Ali’s going to be able to ride his horse tomorrow,” Jasmine laughed. “His ass is probably as red as that parrot you terrorized today.”

“I admit that bird didn’t deserve the circumstances he found himself in, but I had no other options,” Jafar replied.

“By the way you’re smiling, you enjoyed it,” she said as she walked over to the hidden alcove, took a book from it and then placed it on the table.

Jafar shrugged with his grin brightening at 1000 watts. “I cannot help but find humor in the chaos.” He floated closer to her as she wrote in her book. “Making more notes? Did you find out anything about your prince?”

“He’s not my prince,” Jasmine stated as she scribbled some words and made a final dot of her punctuation. She closed her book before Jafar was close enough to take a peek. “He’s a potential choice.”

“Right,” he responded with a glance away, “just a potential choice.”

“That’s all.”

“So what other information did you manage to gather?” he asked.

“May I ask the nature of your question?” Jasmine returned, looking up at him with a smirk.

“I am simply trying to be a good listener as I hear it is beneficial when trying to build trust,” he replied. “I would hope that in time you will be able to trust me to make good on your next wish so that I can finally be rid of this life. That is all.”

“Of course,” Jasmine confirmed with a doubting look.

Jafar leaned up against a chair and pretended to be bored. “But since we’re on the subject and it’s known to do wonders for mental welfare to confide in someone, what else did you hear about the potential choice?”

Jasmine looked him over in thought. She noted how he wouldn’t look at her but instead inspected his nails and flicked imaginary dirt off them. “I’ve heard that he often talks about politics, medicine and law,” she said.

“Ah, I see. Sounds hardly passable for a possible suitor.”

“And history. Specifically ancient history.”

“Why ancient history?”

“His brother wouldn’t know that so I didn’t ask.”

“Ancient history doesn’t have much value. There’s not much of it that is credible.”

“As his brother puts it, ‘he likes mythological stuff’.”

“Even worse!” Jafar said with a sneer. “He sounds like a fool. Mythology has no foundation in truth. They’re stories rooted in cultural and religious anecdotes that were fabricated in order to validate unexplained phenomenons. It’s right there in the name; myths.”

“Says the mythical phenomenon,” Jasmine said, pointing at him.

Jafar opened his mouth to retort but froze in place with nothing to say. He then closed his jaw, folded up his arms, and looked away. “Fair point.”

Jasmine put her book back in the cubby and, though she was amused by his behavior, would rather return him to the mood he was in earlier. “C’mon, Jafar,” she said, taking his arm and bringing him to sit down with her near the fireplace. “Tell me your favorite wishes that you made go wrong. I need a laugh tonight.”

He brightened up right away. “Ah, let me tell you of the vizier who thought he was smart enough to best me.” He sat down on the floor near the fire and she reclined beside him, fixated on his words. “The man was an arrogant fool who had aspirations of one day staging a coup to overthrow the monarchy, however he was not well liked due to his odious character. Knowing that wishing to become sultan would not work out to his benefit, he knew he needed to make it so that when he became sultan through his own acts, that he could stay there or perhaps have the citizens protest should he ever be ousted. So for his first wish, the vizier wished that no one in the kingdom was more beloved and trusted than him.”

“How did you do that?”

“I turned him into a dog.”

Jasmine burst out laughing. “A dog? Just a regular dog? Could he talk or at least use his last two wishes?”

“While he retained his mentality as a human, every aspect of him was a dog, so no, he couldn’t use his last two wishes. I cannot understand dog speak.”

“What happened to him?”

“I made sure he found his way into a loving and deserving family. That family just so happened to be the current sultan’s daughter and her husband and children. Instead of overthrowing the family and possibly terminating their line, he was now at service to them for the rest of his life. Once he realized the futility in ever becoming human again, then he became very beloved and trusted. He even became like a surrogate mascot for the palace because he could do so many tricks.”

“That actually sounds like it ended well,” Jasmine said, leaning against his shoulder and looking into the fire. “I like a happy ending.”

“Then perhaps you’ll enjoy this story about a woman who wished to marry into wealth.”

“I get the feeling this will not be as happy an ending.”

“It all depends on who you ask. Anyhow, this woman was a very lazy and entitled person with less than stellar hygiene. She wished to marry an elderly wealthy man who she could leach off of, and then when he eventually died she would have his money and be a wealthy widow.”

“I thought genies couldn’t make people fall in love.”

“You would be right on that account. There was a despicable man of considerable age and riches available for marriage. I made it so that anytime he looked upon the woman, she would appear as an immense beauty to him. He wasn’t known for being especially complex in his interests, so a pretty woman turned his head every single time. His social graces were lacking, and despite his wealth, he could not attract other women.”

“So the two were married.”

“That’s correct.”

“She for his wealth and soon to be predicted demise, and he for her false curves and feminine allure.”

“Again. Correct.”

“So where’s the catch?”

“That old man turned out to be the oldest living person in the history of Agrabah.”

“Turned out? More likely he was magically enhanced.”

“Of course. He outlived her. And he was very controlling as well as miserly with his money. She never got to use any of it.”

“Serves her right, I guess.”

“You sound conflicted.”

“That woman’s life was ruined.”

“It would not have been if she had not made such a selfish wish.”

“But for the rest of her life? Did she deserve that kind of misery till she died?”

“I was going to tell you the one about the the man who wished for the death of his wife but perhaps that one should remain untold.”

“Tell me anyway. I can tell you’re dying to tell someone of your cleverness.”

“It’s not that clever, but it gives me satisfaction anyway. Once he made his wish, I immediately granted it by annulling his current marriage through a lesser known clause in the marital laws, which allowed him to now wed his secret lover. The next day they were married.”

“Let me guess. The day after that she died in a freak accident.”

“Not at all. It was the moment they were pronounced as man and wife.”

Jasmine was quiet and Jafar knew then he had overstepped a boundary. “All right, what did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” she quickly said. “That was centuries ago.”

“But…?”

“But isn’t that essentially murder?”

“Okay, no more stories,” he said, getting up from his place on the floor. Jasmine grabbed his arm and kept him rooted in his spot.

“No, wait,” she begged. “I like your stories.”

“I’m not getting that sense from you.”

“Then tell me something else.”

“My neck feels stiff. I believe I’ll go stretch out in my hammock.”

He made to get up but Jasmine got on her knees behind him and placed her palms forcefully on his shoulders to weigh him down. He was much too strong to be stopped by her efforts, but he stayed in place all the same now that her fingers were massaging the muscles along his neck. “Let’s get off the wish subject,” she said, trying to think up a topic. “Tell me… about your enchanted cave. How did Aladdin find it?”

Until then, Jafar didn’t know that genies could suffer from body aches. He just figured it was the heavy load of responsibility that was making him stiff all the time. He tried not to groan in contentment as she rubbed his sore muscles. “I haven’t the first clue how Aladdin found the cave,” he told her, as his voice came out heady, “though he was permitted access because he is a boy of poor upbringing but still pure of heart. A ‘Diamond in the Rough’.”

“Yes, I recall that from the book I read about you,” Jasmine answered. She pressed her thumbs along his traps and was gratified by the nearly silent sigh from him. “Is there only one?”

“There are probably more than one at any given time, but whoever lured him into that cave was possibly a sorcerer who conjured an image of anyone who could enter it. Aladdin just happened to be the closest one in the vicinity.”

“How do you know Aladdin didn’t just happen to stumble across the cave?”

“That’s not likely. The cave is revealed through magic. Not only that, but one would have to research texts from three hundred years ago to know it exists. Aladdin possesses neither the sorcery nor the literacy skill to find such a place.” Jafar’s voice grew huskier with each sentence. The longer Jasmine massaged his shoulders, the more he relaxed into her touch. Soon his head was drooping with how serene he had become.

“What was the point of having a Diamond in the Rough?” she asked, digging her fingers into his deltoids and squeezing out his stress. “Everyone involved in your imprisonment seemed to want to make sure someone pure of heart found your lamp. Is it so that the Diamond in the Rough would break your spell and release you from your bond forever?”

She dug her knuckles into a knot and Jafar grunted out under his breath before speaking. “That was the plan. There was no one pure of heart back then because greed and corruption was so prevalent. So many people had made wishes that had gone wrong that soon there were few that had wishes left or that were brave enough to try to best me.”

“Or no one to trust not to wish for themselves to become sultan.”

“Exactly. The current sultan and his court of ministers and sorcerers designed and enchanted the cave so that no one could make a wish again. Only one of pure heart could open the cave and release me. The hope was that he would become the next sultan and usher in a new era of morality. Unfortunately, brains was not part of their criteria, so instead of wishing to no longer be homeless or wishing there was no more poverty in the world, Aladdin instead wished for something that would only benefit himself.”

“To be with me. Even one pure of heart can be selfish under the control of love.”

“It wasn’t love,” Jafar said bitterly. “He doesn’t have the capacity to understand what truly makes you exquisite. He was in lust.”

Jasmine paused for a moment, letting silence fill the room as her heart beat with thunderous rhythm because Jafar had referred to her as exquisite. To counter the drumming, she softened her kneading since such a beat would create more vigorous movements and she didn’t want to let on that his words had an effect on her. At the same time she was hyper aware of her hands upon his back, now smoothing languidly along the striations of his muscle as she discovered she enjoyed the feel of his hard physique. Goose bumps formed along his skin and he suddenly tensed. She returned to pressing hard into his tissue, this time with more roughness.

“So,” she said, hesitating for something else to ask about, “What exactly does it mean to be pure of heart? Couldn’t a baby be technically pure of heart?”

“If you’re asking about the criteria for being a Diamond in the Rough, then no, a baby would not qualify. The person must be over seventeen years of age, born and raised in poverty, have great empathy for others, and who would rather give his life than take one.”

“I see.”

“Oh, and must be a virgin.”

“Did…did you just make that one up?”

“No. I don’t lie even for a joke.”

“Okay, because the way you added that last one in feels like a purposeful dig on Aladdin.”

“It is both a fact and a criticism.”

“Says the man who didn’t lose his virginity till 22,” she teased.

Jafar turned his head to the side to look at her with an arched brow. “Says the woman who has yet to experience it at all.”

“I can’t believe I set that up for you,” Jasmine lamented.

Jafar chuckled. “A woman like you has infinite options. Much more than a thin and bony Grand Vizier. You don’t need to justify yourself.”

“Let’s just hope that the experience is good enough to not entirely be meant for procreation purposes.”

“Even as queen, you will have other opportunities before you.”

“I feel unjustly categorized.”

“I regret saying all queens are whores. For what it’s worth, you deserve someone who will bring you to the height of fulfillment. The requirement for the father of your children does not seem to involve love. Shamelessly take all that you are entitled to.”

She was searching for a sultan, not a bedmate, she thought. But she didn’t tell him this because she wasn’t sure it was true anymore. He couldn’t see her eyes admiring him as she thought of Jafar as someone worthy of taking all that he was entitled to as well.

She palmed his shoulders and squeezed as hard as she could, subconsciously tightening the closeness between them. Her chest pressed into his back and her breath trailed along the skin of his neck. He slightly hitched by their proximity.

“Does that hurt?” She asked, though it hardly seemed out of concern.

He cleared his throat and could barely speak through the dryness. “No.”

“I can stop if you lik-”

“No.”

“All right.” Jasmine massaged her fingers into him again, this time harder, and he grunted his satisfaction.

He sat in silence though she could see around to his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He seemed to be preparing to say something and she patiently waited. In the meantime, she confirmed to herself that there was no biting fear nipping at her nerves when she touched him. In fact, she was surprised by how there was a different, equally as strong sensation at her fingertips, like a magnetic reaction drawing her towards him with a compulsion she’d never known was real. She’d once read a romance novel and turned her nose up at the mention of a bewitching desire to touch a man. It sounded absurd and weak to her, but now she was bewildered that it was not only real but so intense. It was electrifying to be this close to him. She closed her eyes and let her touch appreciate the details of his body.

It was absurd. She had never had the opportunity to feel the body of another person in her life, and her first experience was the over muscled, large, red body of a genie. How was anyone else in her life going to compare? It occurred to her that she wasn’t sure if it was the genie she was currently trying to memorize the details of his body, or of Jafar’s. What if this was not the mystical being before her but the man? What if it was the self-described thin and bony vizier she had under her ministrations? What would he feel like?

“Jasmine,” Jafar suddenly said. She paused with her palms centered on his back. He was hesitant to continue, and she could tell he was trying very hard to word his sentence so as not to offend her. “You know this kingdom will prosper without a sultan.”

Jasmine sat back and exhaled out with a frown. “I’ve thought of that.”

“I figured,” Jafar replied, looking away in disappointment.

“But like you said, even you don’t always know the outcome of a wish.” She got up and began to pace the floor while Jafar looked on in concern. “What if my wish does the worst to this kingdom? I wish to become Sultaness and then what? The people automatically accept a woman on the throne? What will become of my father?”

“You could wish for progress for Agrabah.”

“Jafar, you know that is a hard wish to grant. I’ve thought of every angle and there’s too much at risk. What if that means someone taking over the monarchy? What if that means killing thousands of people?”

“Perhaps you could wish f-”

“Stop it, Jafar!”

He flinched back as though she had struck him across the face. She immediately froze with her hands at her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said in clear regret. “I think I’ve been feeling a little over burdened.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he replied, standing up from off the floor.

“But I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“And I should not have pressured you to make another wish.”

Jasmine frowned, her complexion turning pink from embarrassment. “I know you’re tired of waiting, but I promise to release you from the lamp one day.”

Jafar nodded. “I believe you.” He looked to the lamp as it shined by the light of the fire. “It is late and you don’t have the benefit of skipping sleep.” He felt her fingers trace the back of his hand and he turned to see her eyeing him in shy apology.

“Please stay with me, Jafar.”

There was no possible way for him to say no. He felt the lightness of his heart lift inside his chest and he wondered how someone with no magic had managed to enchant him the way she had.

“Of course.” He took her hand and led her towards her bed like this was not something new to him. She got under the covers and he lay above them until she directed him otherwise.

“We are not typical, you and I,” she told him. “We are allowed atypical sleeping arrangements.”

“Atypical would be for you and I to sleep inside the lamp,” he answered, pulling the covers over himself.

“That’s true,” she said, inching closer to him. “But atypical is if we slept in the lamp with Aladdin and his monkey.”

She had said it to stir his disgust for her own enjoyment. He folded up his arms and leaned closer to her. “And the lamp with all of us sleeping in it is next to your father’s bed.”

“Well, that escalated further than intended,” Jasmine replied with a look of repulsion.

“I must remind you that you instigated it.”

They settled in with Jasmine’s head rested against his shoulder. It was minimal contact but more than enough to stir the warmth between them.

The day had been long and Jasmine had relaxed into him like he was part of her furniture. Before she had completely fallen asleep, she asked him one more favor.

“Jafar,” she said, and he realized he enjoyed hearing his name upon her lips, “will you tell me what you were like when you were growing up?”

He smiled. “Growing up, my life was, as one might say, charmed. I had the greatest gift no one else could possibly understand except for those who already have it.”

“Intelligence?”

“No. A twin sibling.”

“You were a twin?”

“Yes. My sister and I did everything together. Without her, I would never have accomplished all that I did…”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've known for a while that I would have to change the rating to this story. This chapter is one reason why.

Jasmine was the first one awake. She rolled over to find the genie slumbering with deep and quiet inhalations that made his chest rise and fall with great motions. Even in sleep he had retained his legs.

Somehow he had kicked off all the covers and was completely exposed to the air except for the purple sash that served as his only apparel. Jasmine glanced at it and immediately looked away in blushing embarrassment. A second longer and she would have dared herself to lift up his sash.

She looked back up at his face and noticed how sharp his features were. She had no idea how much he resembled his human self and it prompted her to make further inspection. His bone structure was clearly defined, which went with his mention that as a man he had been quite thin. The goatee was an especially nice addition to his face, and though that particular fashion had gone out of style, she liked the way the four or so inches of his beard hung below his chin.

He had such a strong jaw that she couldn’t imagine that was the same, but at the moment he was relaxed with his head resting on the pillow and tilted in her direction so that, for once, his features were softened. Currently, he didn’t look like the angry, red genie the stories foretold.

Except for the manacles, he looked comfortable. One hand rested on his stomach while the rays from the rising sun gleamed on the gold, pulling her attention to his restraints. She did a double take when she noticed there was writing inscribed on the underside of the cuff. She leaned forward to get a closer look.

_Enslaved by your choice_

Jasmine furrowed her brows in perplexity. She glanced over to his other manacle where it lay on the other side of his head near his ear. She could see there was more writing on the underside of that cuff too but wasn’t close enough to make it out.

Jasmine glanced to Jafar to ensure he was still asleep before leaning over him in hopes of reading the other inscription. Unfortunately, the inscription was too small to decipher, but she could just make out an ‘F’ at the beginning. She inched her arm over him and placed it on the other side of his body, bringing herself across his form to hover over him. She narrowed her eyes at the words printed on his manacle.

_Freed by one voice_

At least that was how he knew only a wish could set him free. Now she had to gently move back before he woke up to find her practically on top of him.

A knock came at her door. To her horror, Jafar startled awake causing Jasmine to tumble across him. She nearly slid down the other side of the bed until she felt his strong arms catch her.

“Princess Jasmine?” Talia called from beyond the door. “Sleeping in again?”

Jafar hoisted Jasmine back up and she grabbed anything to keep from slipping, which so happened to be his shoulder. She pulled herself up and wrapped her other arm around his neck. She had managed to right herself enough but now her knees were on either side of his body while he held her hips to keep her balanced.

Jafar and Jasmine froze in shock at the intimate position they found themselves in. They stared at one another, speechless and dumbstruck.

“Princess Jasmine?” Talia called again.

Jasmine was finally provoked into action. “Uh, yes!” she called back. “Sleeping in today!”

“Okay,” Talia confirmed and then left to go tend to her other duties.

Jasmine cleared her throat and pointed to his wrist. “Your manacles,” she told Jafar as she slipped off him with as much dignity as she could.

“What?” he asked, still unable to recover from the surprise.

“I was reading the inscriptions.” It didn’t really explain why she was on top of him, but at least it was the truth. She got out of bed while he inspected his manacles in confusion.

It’s a little warm in here,” she said as she fanned herself with her hand and opened the curtain to reveal a bright, sunny morning. She looked back to see Jafar pulling his sash lower down his thighs like he was trying to conceal something. With a strong blush, Jasmine whirled back around in case he needed some privacy. Perspiration began to form on her brow. She went out on the balcony where a little wind might cool her down.

Her balcony looked over the gardens where she could see people and servants milling about in their daily routines. Some of the ministers were talking to her father with skeptical expressions upon their faces. She tilted her head in puzzlement, looking over at the group but unable to deduce what the topic was about.

“Is this a usual occurrence?” Jafar asked. She hadn’t heard him come up beside her and she glanced up at him before returning her attention back to the group around her father, thankful for the distraction.

“Never. Father doesn’t often keep company with his advisors.”

“They seem to be deep in discussion.”

Among the men, Omar was rather visible despite his short stature. It was easy to see robes as blue as his. He was pointing towards the east where Jasmine looked and saw a group of riders heading down the path from the palace towards the city. A moment later, the grand vizier was shepherding everyone towards the gates.

A thought suddenly occurred to Jasmine. “He’s not there.”

Jafar glanced at her in confusion. “Need I ask?”

“Omar isn’t in his office.”

Jafar looked towards the administration building, specifically at the north west corner. “If his office is in the same location as mine was, then I have the advantage of providing as a lookout.”

Jasmine gave him a look of surprise and nudged her shoulder into his chest. “I appreciate your offer and accept, however I would have thought this conduct of prying was below your ethical standards.”

“While I prefer more manipulative measures such as throwing one’s weight around, I am not above becoming accomplice to one too lithe to use her weight as influence.”

“I’m sure that as a man once the tallest in the court you had no use for such underhanded measures as snooping,” Jasmine said as she went behind the changing screen.

“You would be wrong. I was an excellent spy. However there was no need to actually go anywhere when I had my sorcery to rely on.”

“Ah, right,” she answered from beyond the screen. “Once again, you always have the greatest benefits.”

“And I worked hard for them,” he stressed.

“Speaking of sorcery, I’m curious to know how it compares to your magic as a genie.” Her voice was slightly muffled as she drew her clothes over her head.

“A genie’s magic has few restrictions, though they can easily be worked around if I am able to come up with a solution,” Jafar said over to her. “Though I cannot personally kill anyone, I can certainly find ways to cause accidents.”

“Like the second wife of the man who wished his first wife dead.”

“Yes, that’s one example. Not all wishes can be worked around. For instance, I cannot raise anyone from the dead nor can I cause anyone to fall in love.”

“But you can make someone wise. How is that different from making someone fall in love?”

“The brain is an amazing organ inside our heads. It can be stimulated in areas, therefore causing one to focus and ponder more intricate aspects, however emotion is volatile compared to simple thought process because it’s barely thought at all. It is instinct, and even if I were to cause someone to fall in love, the feeling would be fleeting for emotions often are.”

“That’s understandable,” she said as she came back into his view. “Perhaps I’m too cynical, but falling in love shouldn’t be something so easily provoked in a person anyway.”

Jafar stared at her, his expression completely unreadable, and he was glad he was already red so that she couldn’t see how flustered he had become. She had put on a red outfit that was nearly the color of him and it would likely prompt a host of sinful thoughts among every male in the kingdom should they be graced with her image.

“Indeed,” he said quietly.

“All right, I’ll be right back. If you see Omar coming while I’m in his office, why don’t you just magic a red bird to alight at the window or something.”

“That will work,” he agreed. She nodded once and left the room. He stood at her balcony and watched her make her way towards the administration building as confident and bright as a flower in full bloom. He glanced down at his manacles, looking at the inscriptions she had apparently been reading right before the second he woke up.

* * *

Jasmine headed into the administration building and up to the second floor with no problems. It looked like most of the ministers were off with Omar and the few clerks lurking around were either too busy trying to get ahead in their departments or lurking around in laziness.

Jasmine had never been to Omar’s office but now that she was aware it might have been Jafar’s old one, she had more than just a desire to snoop. Luckily, she did know where it was because it was next door to her father’s office, which was usually vacant and gathering dust. She often used her father’s office for her own studies when she snuck old tomes out of the library and didn’t want to be caught taking them to her room.

She approached her father’s office and made to go in, but first looked around, ensured there was no one else in the vicinity, and then quickly snuck into Omar’s adjoining office. As soon as she was through the door, she shut it behind her and surveyed the room.

At first glance it looked like a cluttered room of a hoarder, but upon further inspection, Jasmine noted that it was more like a highly organized mess. There were parchments all stacked to one side of the desk that had notes like ‘Agricultural Outline to East Block Field 8’ and ‘Budget for Abu Hadriyah Street Repairs; Gold Souks’. Everywhere else was a mess of files and trinkets that looked like gifts Omar had collected over the years.

The desk was stacked high with many books and notes. Jasmine circled around it and realized they were all projects that were in need of his constant and immediate attention. There were seven separate stacks in the middle that were the ones Omar had determined to currently be of the most urgency. The smallest stack was only several pages with one word on it; “Ali.”

Jasmine gasped and snatched up the pages. Omar had sent out interns to the orphanage that Aladdin had claimed to grow up in, but of course they found no information on him because Aladdin had never been there. Each note was written as Omar’s information progressed.

\- Not from orphanage

\- Locket stolen?

\- Jasmine possibly accomplice? Why?

\- Ali sounds similar to Prison guard description of Jasmine’s kidnapper

\- Ali = Aladdin?

Jasmine knew Aladdin would never be able to keep up the pretense that he was a long lost son, but she didn’t expect Omar to be on the verge of discovering his true identity. She would have to address this problem later because she had now noticed one of the stacks had her name on it.

This stack was thicker, but still happened to be the second smallest stack of the seven. She opened it up to reveal that Omar had been keeping track of the princes she had denied and the possible ones to invite to Agrabah. He had been making his own notes on her progress over the years.

\- Sixth of fourth from Hambrani; denied

\- Fourth of third from Jakra; denied

\- What is Jasmine’s criteria?

\- First of seventh from Atleeza; denied

\- First of fourth from Hambrani; denied

\- Denied last <strike>two</strike> <strike>five</strike> <strike>ten</strike> <strike>eleven</strike> <strike>fifteen</strike> <strike>eighteen</strike> <strike>twenty-four</strike> <strike>thirty</strike> thirty-something princes

\- Jasmine does not favor good looks

\- Didn’t even meet with Prince of Kaba for a full hour today

\- Interested in prince with scholarly aspirations?

\- Third of fourth Prince from Atleeza humiliated himself; no more Atleeza princes.

\- Talked back to second Hambrani prince; no more Hambrani Princes

\- Possible Parakesh interest!

\- See chart

\- Crate explanation? Prince with Crate skills?

\- J has shown disdain for Parakesh princes. What does she want?

Beneath the notes were all of the illustrations the five kingdoms had sent. The Parakesh family was at the top where it was marked up with ink. The four princes of Parakesh who had visited in the last two weeks had been crossed out. Any of the sons under seventeen had also been crossed out. The man who would become Sultan of Parakesh had a line through his face as well as various others who were presumably married or dead. Jasmine noted with great relief that the second son of the first wife was still unmarked.

She knew that by taking the illustration that she would be alerting Omar to not only the fact that someone had been in his office, but also that the someone could only be her for no one else had any advantage in stealing it. Regardless, she rolled it up and placed it under her arm.

Underneath the Parakesh illustration was another chart that Omar had made which she immediately recognized as a hierarchy for the future Sultan’s cabinet. Omar was setting up a list of advisors to displace the current one once her father was no longer ruler. She grabbed that chart as well and rolled it over the other so that they both fit under her arm.

Jasmine went to the window and spotted her balcony across the gardens. The red genie was keeping watch and she waved to him. He waved back and she was glad he was looking out for her, but it was very strange to see him out in the open even if he was invisible to everyone else. She advanced to the door but stopped short when she heard footsteps on the other side. Quickly, she spotted a shallow alcove off to the side and she silently ran to it, ducking among the many ancient books.

The door opened and Jasmine peeked out from her hiding spot to see a handsome man of about thirty years enter Omar’s office. She recognized him as Marwan, the deputy to the minister of defense. Judging by the fact he wasn’t being sneaky about his presence, it seemed Marwan had free reign inside Omar’s office.

Marwan began ruffling through one of the piles on Omar’s desk though Jasmine couldn’t tell from her angle which one it was. It seemed to be fruitless as Marwan kept rummaging through them all now, not finding what he was looking for. He finally stopped and stared at the piles in confusion, glancing around the floor in case anything had fallen.

“What’s he talking about…?” Marwan murmured to himself. There was a pen on the desk and Marwan took it out of the ink well then scribbled out a note on a blank piece of paper. As if his presence wasn’t bothersome enough, Marwan began to whistle as he wrote and he was way off key.

Jasmine glared at the deputy with a grimace, hoping he’d leave soon. She ducked further down so as not to be seen when a green tome lying at the top of the piles of books caught her eye. It was old, used as a ledger for centuries, and she wasn’t as surprised that it was still usable as she was by the inscription at the side: _Cabinet officers - Hamish through present_.

Marwan was not bothered with being quiet so Jasmine heard his heavy footfalls head towards the door. She peeked out of the alcove in time to see the man go through the door and shut it behind him with a somewhat loud bang. Jasmine waited three silent seconds before she grabbed the ledger off the pile and flipped through the pages near the beginning.

Fortunately for her, she was well versed in Agrabah government history. The first pages were dedicated to the restructuring of the new Hamish monarchy and she knew well enough that the cabinet Jafar had entered into was the second to last Hamish, about a hundred years after the first. It didn’t take her long to find the first mention of his name: Jafar - clerk (youngest to date). Her heart raced at his name printed on the page and it had nothing to do with the risk of being caught with the book.

The note next to Jafar’s name confirmed what he had told her a week earlier about being only 15 when he became employed by the monarchy. She followed his progress through the cabinet ledger, like seeing his history play out before her.

\- Jafar - Assistant to second deputy of Economic Minister

\- Jafar - Assistant to Agricultural Minister

\- Jafar - Third deputy of Infrastructure ministry

\- Jafar - First deputy of Education ministry

\- Jafar - Minister of Defense

\- Jafar - Counsel Vizier to Sultan Abdullah Hamish

\- Jafar - Grand Vizier to Sultan Abdullah Hamish

Jasmine wasn’t sure why he had bounced around between ministries. It was unusual for anyone to stray outside their field of study, yet Jafar hadn’t just strayed, he had stuck his hands in every cookie jar that he could. Within twenty years he had managed to start from a lowly clerk and end up all the way into the second of command of the kingdom. The notes on him had been sparse up until that point, but then Sultan Abdullah Hamish had apparently passed and his son Sultan Qadir Hamish had taken the throne. Jafar was kept on as Grand Vizier, however there had been trouble from the beginning.

\- Jafar - Grand Vizier to Sultan Qadir Hamish

\- Jafar - Demoted to Counsel Vizier

\- Jafar - Reinstated as Grand Vizier

\- Jafar - Demoted to Minister of Commerce

\- Jafar - Reinstated as Grand Vizier by order of the Sultaness

\- Jafar - Demoted to First deputy of Culture Ministry

\- Jafar - Reinstated as Grand Vizier by order of the Sultaness

\- Jafar - Exiled

The circumstances of which he was exiled was not indicated and Jasmine wondered if the reason was because Hamish had found out that Jafar was planning a coup, or that he was a sorcerer, or because he was sleeping with the Sultaness. Perhaps all three.

Jasmine wanted to keep reading but suddenly a thump hit the side of the building and a short burst of ‘caw!’ came from the other side. Jasmine jumped at the sound and then sprinted to the window to see a large red parrot outside, perhaps the same one Jafar had accidentally tormented yesterday, flying away in a daze. She glanced across the gardens to see Jafar pointing somewhere down below her line of sight. Placing the book back on the stack, she approached the door, and then put her ear up against. When she didn’t hear anything out in the hall, she slowly cracked the door open and peeked out to find the hall empty. As soon as she stepped outside into the hall, she heard Omar coming up the stairs talking to someone. In a flash, Jasmine stepped into her father’s office and closed the door enough to hide behind.

“...no time to discuss this right now,” she could hear Omar say as he and the Minister of Culture conversed as they walked. “I have other more pressing things to do.”

“I just don’t think this is a wise strategical move on the Sultan’s part,” the Minister answered. “It needs to be addressed today.”

“If you don’t like the idea, you can bring it up to him at the next cabinet meeting now that he attends them. But just so you are aware, I don’t see the problem with the structure and will not be siding with you on this issue.”

“It’s not the building I’m opposed with.”

“If it’s not the actual proposal you’re complaining about, then you’re too late to address the real problem. He’s already gone into town.”

“And you didn’t stop him?”

“What was I supposed to do a-. Hold on. Why is my office door open?”

Jasmine tensed and cursed under her breath. While listening to Omar enter his office, she kept the door to her father’s cracked open so that she could continue to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Who’s been in my office?” Omar asked rhetorically.

“There’s a note on your desk.”

“Ah, Marwan was here. Seems he couldn’t find the budget ledger.”

Jasmine breathed out in relief.

“That was unlike him to leave the door open,” Omar added.

“Probably just in a hurry,” the Minister replied. “The boy is often in a rush to finish his many tasks.”

“Don’t call him a boy.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Never mind. Just go figure out what to do about Ali. That so-called _prince_ has no idea what’s happening.”

“Keep me informed, Omar,” the Minister said as he departed.

Now alone in his office, Jasmine heard Omar shifting things around on his desk and she hoped he was too busy to notice anything happening beyond his room. She inched out with her smuggled items and began to fast walk towards the stairs. Each second felt like a minute and the hall had never felt so long before. By the time she was at the bottom of the stairs, she exited out of the administration building and was finally able to relax while crossing the gardens back to the palace where Jafar waited for her.

* * *

Ever the gentleman, Jafar held the door open for her before she had the chance to open it herself.

“I usually chastise men for being overly-chivalrous,” she told him as she passed by him.

“I am not a man,” he reminded her then pointed to her parchments. “Show me what you have discovered.”

“This one is especially incriminating.” She walked to the table, pulled out the top parchment, and spread it out so that he could take a look.

“Cabinet Order for Prince ______,” Jafar read out loud. “Hmm…that’s odd. How does he know the prince you marry won’t be bringing his own cabinet?”

“Omar might be right on that account. It’s doubtful a prince from another kingdom is going to bring more than a few advisors of his own, so one will most likely have to be developed for him in order to learn Agrabah’s ways before becoming Sultan, otherwise the people won’t accept him.”

“Why make the cabinet before the prince has been chosen? Shouldn’t that be part of the Prince’s tasks?”

“Exactly. This is why it’s so suspicious.”

“Who is Marwan?” Jafar asked, pointing to the name. “He’s been named chief advisor, which would most likely make him Grand Vizier when the prince becomes a Sultan.”

“He’s the First deputy to the Minister of Defense. He’s been something of a rising star inside the government, jumping from post to post in various ministries, kind of like you did before you were Grand Vizier.”

Jafar looked at her in slight bewilderment. “And how would you know that?” he asked.

Jasmine froze. Generally she concealed most information from anyone no matter how benign the material, so it was strange for her to have allowed something like that to slip. It spoke less about her idiocy and more about how unguarded she had become around him.

“There is a tome in Omar’s office,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

“Go on.”

“It lists the cabinet members from the beginning of the Hamish line.”

Jafar’s eyes went wide. “Is it a green book?”

“Yes.”

“I’m surprised it still exists,” he said. He glanced over at her with a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “No wonder you were taking so long.”

Jasmine took the other parchment in her hand and parted from him with the pretense that she needed to put it away, but in reality she didn’t want him to see her getting red in the face _again_. She was rather unpracticed with flirtation, so understanding what made her blush and what didn’t seemed illogical, but the best she could figure out was that she felt no embarrassment when he was flustered, however he could make her heart dance with an innocuous suggestion that would leave her scarlet. She might as well have written on the walls how her body warmed to lofty degrees after one of his well timed teases.

“What’s that?” Jafar asked, pointing to the other page.

“It’s another illustration of the Parakesh monarchy,” Jasmine said as she put it in the hidden shelf with her other research. “Omar was making notes on it.”

“He’s going to know you took it.”

“But he won’t be able to prove it.” She gave the hidden door a little pat after she closed it. “Right?”

“What did his notes say?” Jafar said, coming towards her. He had his sight trained on the door like willing it to open with his magic.

“I was too much in a hurry to see. It’s why I stole it.”

“What are you waiting for?” Jafar reached for the door. “Let’s take a look.”

“Later,” she told him.

“You’re not curious?” He reached for the latch.

Jasmine placed her body in front of it, blocking him from opening it. “Of course I am, but It’s not important right now.”

Jafar oscillated his focus from her and the hidden shelf several times with high suspicion. “What is it you don’t want me to see?”

“That’s not the issue. It’s just that I have other matters I need to resolve and I don’t want you reading the notes without me.”

Jafar stepped back and gave her an arched brow. “Is this about the second son?”

That was half of it. Jafar had already reacted negatively towards any information about the possible suitor and she didn’t want him to somehow discourage her from considering him now that she held his opinion more highly. The other half she gave as her excuse.

“No, it’s that I need to go find Aladdin. Omar has figured out who he is.”

“Really?” Jafar responded in slight surprise. “This Grand Vizier is smarter than you claim.”

“I’ve never claimed him to be anything but nefarious. The man is quite clever.”

“So it seems.”

Jasmine pushed away from the wall and headed towards the door. “I trust you’ll be fine on your own here.” She meant it to mean she hoped she could trust him not to read Omar’s notes without her.

“I was fine on my own for three hundred years. An afternoon free of the lamp will not break me or my meditation,” he replied. She nodded to him. If he was going to meditate, that was good enough for her.

“Keep an eye out for Omar, will you? I’m going to the library to find Aladdin.” And with that, she looked back to ensure he was all right before closing the door behind her.

* * *

It turned out that Aladdin was not at the library like he had said he would be yesterday. Jasmine would have to go searching for him, however the problem was that the palace was huge. There were many places for a boy and his monkey to hide. Jasmine didn’t want to alert the guards or anyone else that she was looking for Aladdin so she walked at a reasonable pace and pretended to be invested in other things as she searched for him.

She first went to her father’s model room, however the princess was informed that he was working with the ministers that day. Fearing Omar would be with him, she decided not to go ask her father if he knew of Aladdin’s whereabouts, even though they supposedly had a meeting that morning. After going to Aladdin’s room, the royal wing, the administration building, the gardens, the kitchen, the dining room, the throne room, the stables, the training fields, and any other place that she thought Aladdin might be, by mid-afternoon it was still fruitless. There were so few places left to search and she hoped that they hadn’t been somehow evading each other the whole time.

A blare of horns announced a prince coming up the path towards the main gate which caused Jasmine to look towards the entrance in disbelief. This was not a good time for visitors, especially a prince who had not announced his arrival earlier. Annoyed that another prospective suitor had come to town, she went down to the courtyard only so that she could peek at the incoming royal before going back to her room.

As soon as she spied the courtyard, she ducked behind a pillar and waited for the arriving group. Once she spotted the prince, she couldn’t contain her surprise. Upon a white horse, riding as well as anyone who has had two lessons was expected, came Aladdin through the gates followed by a few of the guards.

If that hadn’t shocked her enough, her father was already there with Omar and his other ministers at his side anticipating Aladdin’s arrival. The Sultan clapped happily even when Aladdin stumbled off his horse and caught himself before falling flat on his ass.

“Well done, my boy!” the Sultan said, helping Aladdin regain his balance.

“Thank you, your highness,” Aladdin replied while pushing his white turban away further up his head. He flashed his smile that most everyone found charming, even herself once upon a time.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, walking into the middle of the situation.

“Ah, Jasmine!” the Sultan replied with more cheer. “Your brother has been out on important business.”

Jasmine’s blood ran cold. “Sorry, what?” she asked with tempered grit. “What important business?”

Suddenly everyone but her father went silent and took a slight step back, separating themselves from the scene she was inevitably going to make. The Sultan gave her a wide-eyed look as his mind spun to make sense of her mood. Though he was wiser, it was clearly still unpracticed.

“I-I thought it would make you happy,” he said quietly.

“Thought what would make me happy?” she asked with a challenging tone. “That Ali gets to go outside the walls or that you gave him an important job when I still go unrecognized.”

“Now, now Jasmine,” the Sultan said, holding his hands up in no contest. “Ali is experienced with the outside world and I see no reason to retain him inside for his safety wh-”

“I could be experienced with the outside world too, you know!” she said, barely keeping control of her voice. “You give him guards to go out. Why not me?”

“It’s not safe for a lady.”

“But it’s safe for a guy dressed in rich robes where everyone is out to steal from one another, or so you tell me?” She put her hands on her hips only to keep herself from showing how much her hands wished to strangle somebody. “Tell me the truth, father. It’s because he’s a boy and I’m not.”

“Now, that’s not true, Jasmine, and you know it,” the Sultan answered with a frown. “I needed someone to go out and put forward the good news so I appointed Ali to be my messenger because he knows this city better tha-”

“What business is it then?” she demanded. “Exactly what is it that you’re planning?”

Aladdin’s eyes bounced from the Sultan, to Jasmine, and back again in rising fear.

“It’s…” her father replied, lowering his head once he made the connection to her anger. “It’s for… a library.”

“Are you joking?” she said, seething out in rage. “You’re giving Ali that responsibility?”

“My thought was that if he’s to be a prince and ambassador to this kingdom, he’ll need help getting his prominence established.”

“He’ll need help learning to read first. You made an illiterate boy the messenger for your plans to build a library,” she scoffed. “Which was my suggestion, as you should recall!”

“I didn’t intend to steal the credit from you but to help Ali mak-”

“I don’t care about the credit, father!” Jasmine said, throwing her hands up in dismay. “I want the responsibility! I want you to see that I am more than just a bride-to-be for a contemptible prince.”

“Please, Jasmine, that’s not how you’re viewed.”

“Of course, it is! I have no other avenues before me so what else is there? You have imprisoned me for years, overlooked my intelligence, and abused my time. Do you know what this tells me? It tells me that everything I’ve studied over the years, all the strategy of Crate and the implementation of those exercises, and that every book and discipline I have mastered in a span of decades has amounted to absolutely nothing!” Jasmine pointed at Aladdin and he flinched back with a yelp. “And then as soon as a young, royal male shows up, suddenly he’s your ambassador to do good in the city! I was here all along, father!”

“We will talk about this later, Jasmine,” the Sultan said, glancing around at the others in embarrassment.

“So you can pretend this never happened?” she defied. “You do this all the time! Make excuses and then run off with your hands covering your ears.”

“I admit that I have not handled conflict well in the past but I understand your need to be heard this time around, however it will have to be later wh-”

“You clearly don’t understand my need to be heard or you would listen right now!”

“Believe me, my daughter, I have done the best I can for you, but let us go inside to discuss this.”

“That’s the best you can do?” Jasmine said, losing all her control. “You lock me inside the palace and force me to choose a horrible prince to wed out of the premise that you can’t do any better than that? What kind of father does that?”

“What else am I supposed to do then?” the Sultan snapped. She flinched back, having never seen him lose his temper before. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a stubborn child who is incessantly taking enormous risks! I can’t allow you freedoms for just anything, Jasmine! I can’t give you everything you want!”

“I’m not asking for the world, father. I’m asking f-”

“That’s all you ever ask for!” the Sultan shouted. “You cannot go beyond the walls, Jasmine! You cannot see the world! You’re my daughter and I know you, Jasmine. You’re a soaring eagle. If I let you leave, you will never come back!”

“Well, what reason would I have, father?” she asked in raw fury. “Why would an eagle fly back to it’s abusive master that she hates so much?”

The Sultan gasped at her reply, stumbling back with his hand held over his heart. By the way he choked up, Jasmine could see that she had verbally struck him too hard.

She glanced around and noticed all the men surrounding her were cowering in her anger. The humiliation of having her outburst witnessed by so many caused her to turn on her heel and walk away with hard steps.

“Jasmine!” she heard her father calling to her. “Jasmine! I’m not done talking to you!”

She saw the irony in the fact that she was the one to leave the argument first. All her life, her father was always the one fleeing from conflict. She said nothing as she walked away. She didn’t trust herself not to break if she turned to face him.

“Jasmine!” she heard her father call, his voice dying off the further she left him behind. “Jasmine!” The crack in his speech indicated the depths of his pain, like a wedge splitting his heart in two.

* * *

Jafar heard Jasmine even before she had entered the room. He was shocked when she opened the door and slammed it behind her, dismissing him completely to go stand in front of her fireplace and start stoking it into life.

He stared at her, wondering what to say, but afraid to stir up more anger. She prodded at the fire until it was roaring with as much heat as her rage.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked with extreme caution.

The only reason he knew she’d heard him was because she had paused, though he couldn’t see her expression due to her face turned to the fire. He waited and was relieved when she began to speak.

“Jafar,” she said just above a whisper. “What exactly did you do with my wish?”

Jafar was suddenly not so relieved. “Why do you ask-”

“Just answer the question, Jafar!” she demanded, turning to him in both anger and pleading. “How did you make my father wise?”

Jafar pursed his lips and glanced away. “I gave your father the gift of rational thought and preemptive planning. But for that I needed a baseline.”

“You needed an example of someone with excellent intuition.”

“Yes.”

“So that he potentially made the same choices as someone who is good with forethought.”

“Yes.”

“And who served as your baseline?”

Jafar cleared his throat in delay. “Me,” he finally told her.

“I see,” she said, with arms folded up and foot tapping rapidly on the floor. “Well then, it’s never occurred to me to ask you this, but since it’s relevant, do you happen to have a daughter, Jafar?”

“No,” he answered. “Nor a son, if you were going to ask.”

“All right, then,” she replied, her anger subsiding very slowly as her high energy was tempered by his calm. “Just out of curiosity, if you did happen to have a daughter, what logical explanation could you come up with that would justify keeping her confined to her residence, isolated from people, and relinquished of any power?”

Jafar swallowed hard and thought long and hard on his answer. The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know, but that it was using her own personality against herself. She stared at him, waiting with dwindling patience. “Please be kind when I tell this to you, Jasmine,” he began. “I only want you to understand.”

“I’ve had enough of being treated like glass. Do me a favor and don’t be gentle with me.”

“Do you know how diamonds are made?”

“A science lesson? Really, Jafar?”

“They start out as nothing more than black earth. But with time, and heat, and immense pressure, it galvanizes and forms into crystalline strength and beauty.”

“Please tell me you’re not making it out like I’m a diamond that my father wants to keep to himself,” she said in skepticism. “The cliche is as old as time.”

“It’s not just that you’re the diamond, Jasmine, but that he is the earth. Until the day of your birth, he had never known the achievement was possible, and he cannot contain his pride and happiness for the wonder he helped create. You are an outcome to all the time and effort in raising you. He put everything else to the side, an entire kingdom, to love you, and teach you, and give you everything you could ever want. And early on, when you were still a child, besting him at a game of strategy, he understood that you were greater than the elements everyone else was made from. He was troubled by it for he had thought he had reached the pinnacle of his usefulness as your father, for you had surpassed him, and from then on everything you wanted was in direct conflict with what he wanted for you.

“A diamond is so rare that men are willing to kill for it. It is so powerful that it can take sunlight and radiate out strings of colors. It is so strong that extreme heat and weight can not destroy it. It is so beautiful that one can find himself staring into it and instantly become mesmerized.

“You once asked me if I thought you were beautiful and I said it didn’t matter, but I was wrong. It does matter, Jasmine, for you are beautiful in every way that holds significance. From your progressive thoughtful methods, to the wisdom of your heart, to the devotion to your people, and to the strength of your spirit, you have proven that you are as rare as a true diamond. As his most valuable asset, your father is able to communicate your importance in only one way; by holding you tight in an attempt to never let you break.

“He is the earth that thinks by hiding you he is keeping you safe. He knows that you are strong, but he doesn’t recognize that there is strength within himself. Your father feels that his protection is warranted against the people who wish him ill will, and as a Sultan, there are many. He has no idea that there is only one who can truly break you, who can shatter you with only a word. And if you wish for vengeance, you need only to wait for that singular moment when it finally dawns on him how detrimental and disrespectful his actions committed against you have been all these years. He will be destroyed by remorse.”

Jasmine stared at the floor, brows furrowed hard in thought. She stood so long in contemplative silence that Jafar wondered if perhaps it would be reasonable for him to return to his lamp for the night.

“A soaring eagle,” she finally said. She looked up to see Jafar’s confusion. “My father called me a soaring eagle. As the earth, he couldn’t protect me if I was left to the skies.”

“There are many analogies to formulate but only one logical conclusion,” Jafar replied. “You are his miracle. And he is terrified of losing you.”

Jasmine swallowed hard, but it did nothing to rid the lump in her throat. She had thought her father didn’t appreciate her or didn’t trust in her ideas. She had often wondered if he regretted not having a son. He was never a man of strength and was so easily hurt by words and actions, always turning a blind eye to injustices or conflict, and she could see now it was because of the great volume of his empathy that was effected by every little negative thing in the world that worked at all angles to crack the exterior of his good will. He was the earth, formed into a shield, trying with all his might not to allow the outside world to chip away at his precious daughter.

“Why does he want me to get married so badly?” she asked.

“Because I suspect your father was an excellent husband. He wants to believe that all husbands are as good as he was to his wife. And when you are married, only then can he transfer the burden of your safekeeping to someone who you trust.”

Jasmine stared into the fire. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks as the scope of her father’s sacrifices became visible. A man who could not bear maliciousness in any form would not want his daughter subjugated to it either. It wasn’t excusable, but the reason had more weight than Jasmine had understood.

Jafar watched her. He was never one to empathize but his chest welled up in sorrow for her, a woman whose only crime was to show a brilliance that caused her father’s fear. Her prison was unprecedented and lonely. There was no one he could relate with more.

In the past he would not have known what to do. Tonight it felt natural as he came to her and circled his arms around her, hugging her so that she could hide her face into his chest. Immediately, Jasmine’s shoulders began to quiver as she cried. He rested his chin upon the top of her head and swayed from one foot to the other, rocking her gently while she finally released her pain of loneliness and anger that had been forming for years.

Outside, the sun was setting and the fire was the only light in the room. Jafar held her close and she settled in to his solace, grateful to have someone she can share in her misery. Neither knew how long they’d been there, but by the time she had cried all she could, they were simply standing in front of the fire, staring into it as they held together in comfort.

“Jafar,” she whispered.

“Yes, Jasmine?”

“I want to make a second wish.”

“What is it that you would like to wish?”

He felt her breathe out in heaviness. “I don’t know.”

He smiled. In her moment of burdened heart and deep revelations, she thought of him too. Jafar leaned back so that he could look into her eyes. She focused up at him and his hand went to the side of her cheek, brushing through the strands of hair that hid her face.

“I happen to know someone who could offer you advice, like that was once his job.”

“Tell me what to wish for.”

“You don’t want me to do that. Even as a genie, granting the wish with the best outcome is not easy. You and I will figure something out, and it will benefit everyone in Agrabah for centuries to come.”

“And then with my third wish,” Jasmine said, pulling him down towards her, “you will be free.”

“I will be free,” he whispered, leaning close enough for their breaths to meld.

“Free. To be anything you want.” She arched her neck up and he bent over to brush his lips with hers. She captured his mouth and instantly their desires flamed. The tension had been brewing long enough that the spark from their kiss was all that was needed to ignite the fire between them. No longer deniable, Jafar pulled Jasmine to him and she deepened their kiss, submitting to her passions that needed him for herself.

He felt her hands rise up his chest and around his neck. He circled his arms around her waist and embraced her, lifting her up so that he could quench the longing, though it was impossible for his starved heart to fulfill. Still, he hungered for her. His hands gripped her body tight, squeezing her to him in an effort to have her as close to him, with as much physical contact as possible. She did the same, circling her legs around his waist and hoisting herself above him, balancing herself to give him all of her unbridled passion.

He broke away from her lips and carried her to the bed while she hung onto him and kissed at his neck. He sat down and placed her on his lap where they continued to explore mouths, and run their hands over hard bodies. Jafar leveled out Jasmine’s frantic desires, slowing her down so that there was more substance in their actions. He kissed her long and deep, communicating his worship of her within that span of time.

Jasmine found this method to be more sensual as she closed her eyes and focused on him, concentrating on what movements felt best, and how he responded to her attention. She was encouraged by his hushed baritone sighs that he seemed to unconsciously emit after every time she pulled gently at his ear lobe. Her nails raked along the back of his neck and he groaned out softly. It was a sound that caused a sudden reaction inside her body that ached for him to touch.

Just as Jasmine was learning Jafar, he was figuring out Jasmine. He slipped his tongue gently into her mouth and she swirled her own around his in a breath of excitement. He placed his hand at her bottom and squeezed with his fingers. She paused to savor the feeling and elicited out a soft moan. He kissed down her neck while palming her backside, rubbing his thumbs along the clothed area until she was lightly swaying against his lap.

Jasmine lifted up and placed her knees on either side of his hips, straddling him while maintaining their kisses, and still so eager to stay close. Jafar obliged, squeezing her flesh with more firmness and relinquishing into her control as she kissed him with building ferocity.

She could feel a prodding down at her inner thigh and it made her head grow dizzy in the thought of him hardened by her. She leaned towards it, feeling the length of him along her skin. She grind along him and he twitched in surprise.

Jasmine had always thought her first time would be only through marital contract. It had never occurred to her that she could possibly fall into a terrible need to be fulfilled by a man before vows were made. She felt the throbbing inside her body, desperate to have him alleviate the budding ache right now, and at the moment it was far more powerful than every reasonable thought in her brain.

But something niggled at her mind. A thought that she had and that she hoped would be nothing.

“Jafar,” she said between languid kisses.

“Jasmine,” he responded, tilting his head to encompass more of her mouth.

“Because you don’t have the same needs as a genie, does that mean everything is suppressed?”

Jafar had his lips upon her neck, kissing along her silky skin, when he stopped and slowly pulled away with an expression she could not read.

“It is true that genies do not have the need to quench thirst, hunger, or sleep, however sex is an urgency that I am able to profoundly desire and wish to perform.” He looked to her with a frown. “Unfortunately, having once been a man, the genetic seed is still deeply rooted. So as another form of punishment, genies are unable to procreate.”

She was confused. “So, you want to,” she said. “But you can’t?”

“That is correct.”

The fire flaring through Jasmine suddenly began to cool, though not enough for her needs to be staved. There was still the insistence in her body, begging her to have him fill her to satiation. It was relentless, looking for any means necessary to find relief.

Jafar gently brushed her hair back and had her look him in the eye. “But you do not have to suffer, Jasmine. I still have the means for intercourse. Or there are other methods I can employ.”

She knew all about them. The gossip from the staff room was full of lascivious talk and vulgar stories. Her body longed for him in any way possible, even if he was down on his knees with his head between her legs.

“But you won’t be able to finish.”

“No.”

Jasmine was in disbelief by her unfortunate circumstance. Even if this had not been her first time, even if she was well experienced with sexual encounters, she did not want to leave Jafar in an uncompleted state. She would prefer if they could share in their ecstasy together.

“Jasmine,” he said softly, nudging his chin into her neck. “I would enjoy pleasing you.”

She put her hand to her temple and shook her head. “I would rather wait until we can both be pleased.”

Jafar gave her an understanding smile. “If I were a man, that could easily be arranged.”

“Then we will have to think on our second wish,” she answered. While crawling off his lap, she slumped down at the head of the bed, trying to will the incessant and needy thrumming in her body to cease.

“And think, we will,” he replied, kissing up her leg.

“That’s not helping.”

He chuckled and sidled up beside her. “As I recall, an unfocused mind would not be a wise choice to work with. We may have to continue this conversation tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if that is enough time for I cannot imagine the embers would be cooled by morning.”

Jafar laughed and drew her to him. “I have the same thought. But there is only one way to find out.”

She cuddled against him and kissed his bearded chin. Jasmine found herself staring at his face, wondering once again what he looked like as a man. She would find out tomorrow and the excitement leapt within her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you noticed the two brief cameos. Iago is mentioned in one line and it's to get smacked into a wall. And a different Jafar made an appearance but not as Jafar.
> 
> Also, I wish Jafar had a last name because it would have been useful here. I didn't want to make one up so he remains a single-named legacy like Prince, Cher, and Madonna.
> 
> I forgot to ask this last time, but does anyone have any theories what's going on? Since I get to know everything, I'm curious if what's been revealed so far is too little to go off of or too much that the story might as well have already been told.


	14. Chapter 14

For not needing sleep, Jafar managed to go deep in it. Jasmine woke up first, finding herself lying to the side with Jafar spooned up behind her. One of his hands was stretched over her and lying across her stomach. There was an unmistakable poke at her backside.

As surreptitiously as she could, Jasmine turned around so that she faced him. She pressed her lips gently to his and kissed him awake. Without opening his eyes, he smiled at the endeavor and reciprocated in growing eagerness.

Jafar pulled Jasmine closer to him and she wrapped her arms around his neck. The glowing feeling he had inspired in her the night before was growing hot and bright. She felt a rhythm within her beat with the pulse of her heart, and her body responded by gyrating against his.

“What wish can I grant you?” he asked between slow, ardent kisses.

“One that you can only grant as a man,” she replied. She placed her leg over his hip, drawing him to her so that she could feel him pressing into her inner thigh.

“Then we must figure out your second wish soon,” he told her as he rolled her onto her back and kissed along her neck. “Before I succumb to my desires while still a genie.”

His actions were causing insanity to take hold of her mind. She found herself contemplating the thought of capitulating to her desperation. Perhaps she could allow control to fly out the window just this once so that she could satiate this madness, and then once done, be rid of it so that they could focus on her wishes.

“I fear I have gone past all restraint,” she said, pulling him down on top of her and kissing him without abandon. “If there is any discipline left within you, then you will have to be the one to desist.”

He groaned out with a roll to his eyes as she nipped on his ear lobe and sucked. His body made an involuntary thrust against hers and the only thing hindering their connection was her sleep wear.

“In my centuries of life, I have never felt more gripped by impetuousness till now,” he told her as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties with the motivation to pull them down. “Even knowing I will have no fulfillment, I must have you at once.”

Her answer was a fast and desperate nodding of her head. He grasped her panties and pulled them down her legs in a single motion.

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door. Jafar groaned out, this time in irritation.

“Princess Jasmine?” came a man’s voice on the other side of the door. Both Jasmine and Jafar sat up in alarm, directing their gazes towards it.

“What do you want?” she asked, not sure who it was.

“Your father is requesting your presence at your earliest convenience.”

“Earliest convenience?”

“Preferably now.”

Jasmine looked at Jafar in perplexity and he shot her the same expression. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be with him as soon as I’m ready.”

“Yes, your highness,” he said, and then left to his other duties.

“It’s very unlike father to call for me after a disagreement,” she said, looking to the floor for answers.

“Which side do you think he expects the apology to originate?”

“I have no idea, but though I have a greater understanding of his plight, I don’t feel that I am the one at fault.”

“Then let’s hope he is in a remorseful mood, otherwise your second wish might be used without regard for him.”

“Let’s not get drastic,” she said as she got out of the bed. She wore her nightgown which covered her body, but Jafar still had her panties strung along his fingers. “We will figure something out. I’m convinced there’s nothing our minds put together cannot successfully accomplish.”

“I agree,” he said, watching her go to the changing screen and trying to catch sight of her bare figure beneath the thin cloth. While she got dressed, he continued to talk. “What could one wish achieve that would change the world? Perhaps a new more effective government?”

“Possibly,” she replied from behind the screen. “But how would it be implemented? Generally there is dissent or violence that causes an overthrow. I wouldn’t want to accidentally cause those issues.”

“We could make the human race a kinder species,” Jafar retorted. “There would be less crime and injustice if everyone could empathize.”

“Two problems with that. It would essentially be taking free will away due to the fact we have altered almost everyone’s personalities. And unfortunately, a lot of motivation originates from those kinds of conflicts. We would be losing a lot of advancements if there were never any problems for which to come up with solutions.”

“Good point.”

While Jafar pondered, Jasmine came out from behind the screen in her blue outfit and went to him while he still lay in the bed. She leaned over to give him a long kiss which ended in her drawing away with his bottom lip still nipped between her teeth. He smirked in quiet surprise after she had let him go.

“We’ll talk about this more when I get back,” she told him. “At the very least, I’m grateful for the distraction before we had passed the point of no return.”

“That will be later,” he said with a wink. “And we will get there together.”

“Were you always this smooth?” she asked as she headed for the door.

“Always,” he replied. She rolled her eyes at him before exiting out of the room. Jafar leaned back against the headboard with his arms behind his head, looking to the ceiling with a smile.

* * *

Jasmine didn’t know what to expect but when she stepped into the receiving room where her father waited for her, it came as a surprise that he sat on his throne surrounded by ten soldiers plus Omar at his side.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached them. She was tensed up, prepared for another argument.

“Jasmine, my dear,” her father beckoned to her with authority in his tone. “Please, come meet Rajah.”

A young soldier stepped out of formation and bowed to her. “It is my honor to be of service to her royal highness,” he stated before stepping back with his men.

Her tension deflated immediately. “Sorry, what’s happening here?”

“These soldiers are your new security detail,” the Sultan said, waving a hand at them. “They will be your escorts through the city anytime you have the desire to leave the palace.”

Jasmine was speechless. She opened her mouth to try to speak but only managed to utter out disjointed words. Her father held up a finger to let her allow him to continue.

“But they will also serve as junior advisors should you need them. Each man was handpicked for his loyalty and service to the crown. Each man comes from a different part of the kingdom and can offer direction and facts of the locale. Each man comes with ideas and hopes that you will place your hard earned aspirations to good use towards charity in their sectors. The responsibility to uplift communities will be great, but I know that you will make an exceptionable ambassador of good will for Agrabah. I encourage you to start small before you raise your feats to lofty measures. And when the time comes, you will be given a staff of your own to pursue the altruistic causes you are most passionate about.”

Jasmine stood in humbled amazement with her hands covering her mouth and tears threatening to escape the corners of her eyes.

The Sultan sensed she was overwhelmed and dismissed the men. As they filed out, Jasmine whispered thank yous to each man and shook some of their hands. She was at least cordial to Omar in front of her father though she mostly ignored him as he passed by. Before the company had left the room, Jasmine went to her father with a strong hug circling his neck.

“Thank you, father!” she said to him. “Thank you so much!”

He hugged her tight and then held her away at arm’s length to look her in the eye. “Jasmine, I’ve been such a negligent father all these years and I am truly sorry. I now see how my fears and actions have caused such a terrible rift between you and the rest of the world. I had tried to shield you from all the world’s corruptions, but by doing so I have nearly damaged a young woman. Thank god that you are so stubborn and willful to have pulled yourself out of the atrocity of ignorance.”

“Father, I understand, “ she told him, “and I don’t carry any ill will because your intentions were so honorable. Thank you for having the wisdom to admit you went wrong, and the courage to change it for the better. And father, I am so sorry that I made such a sce-”

“No, Jasmine, don’t apologize for that. I had it coming. Your anger was justified.”

They embraced again and Jasmine cried happy tears into his sleeve. Her father pat her on the back and comforted her with soothing words. “You are the most wonderful daughter a father could ever have. I am so proud of the woman you’ve become in the face of the issues I have caused you,” he told her, sighing with his last sentence. “I only wish there was a way to ensure that all the right choices will be made from now on.”

With her head on his shoulder, he didn’t see her open her eyes and look to the floor in deep thought.

* * *

While alone in Jasmine’s room, Jafar kept himself busy by causing mischief, particularly for Aladdin. The boy and his monkey were climbing the trees in the garden for no apparent reason other than for fun.

Jafar looked on from the balcony with a raised brow. “Which one is the monkey?” he asked himself in jest before flexing his fingers out. A confetti of magical sparks shot out and hit the trees Aladdin and Abu were climbing, The trees shook like they were caught in a windstorm and the two fell out with screams filling the air. Jafar made sure the shrubbery below was thick enough to catch them but not without getting scraped from the thorns.

“Owwwww!” Aladdin cried as he pulled himself out with delicate movements. “Sheesus! Hungh! Jeees…” he groaned through gritted teeth. “That really hurt.”

Abu jumped out, ranting with high pitched squeaks, and hopping from one foot to the other in protest.

“I don’t know what happened either,” Aladdin told Abu. He looked up at the tops of the trees. “Must have been a strong wind.”

From up on the balcony, Jafar chuckled to himself. He pointed at the two again but then heard Jasmine come back from breakfast, and he turned towards the room instead.

“I believe that Aladdin boy has been hiding in the trees the last few days,” Jafar said as he approached her. He stopped short when he noted the expression on her face.

Jasmine was tensed and seemed to purposely avert her eyes from him. Whatever she was reflecting on, it seemed to be bad news.

“What did your father say?” he asked in concern. “Was there another argument?”

“No,” she answered listlessly. “In fact he rectified all that he could. He gave me a security detail and offered me a staff of my own should I ever want to pursue larger charitable endeavors.”

Jafar blinked in confusion. “Then what is the matter?” he asked, cocking his head to one side.

“I was just thinking,” Jasmine said as her eyes cast further down to the floor. “I was thinking that my father is a wiser man now…”

Jafar felt his stomach churn with rising turmoil. “I do hope you’re not suggesting what I think it is you’re suggesting.”

Jasmine folded up her arms and finally looked him in the eye. “It would just be my father. No one else.”

“Last night you insinuated that you wouldn’t give me to another to abuse.”

“He wouldn’t abuse you, Jafar,” Jasmine replied as she came to him and placed her hand on his arm. “He’s a good man, and can do a lot of good in this world.”

“Who cares if he’s good,” Jafar said as he pulled his arm away from her. “He’s still centuries away from smart. You don’t have to be clever to be a good person, otherwise Aladdin would have never been allowed to enter the Cave of Wonders.”

“Please, Jafar? Only my father and no one else.”

“But that’s exactly how these things get out of control, Jasmine. First your father, and then he will suggest his grand vizier because the man is supposedly wise, and then it goes on and on until kingdoms are crumbling at the weight of all the greed and jealousy that you never even knew existed within it.”

“I understand the risk, however imagine what three more wishes, and only three more wishes, could do for this kingdom. We should do it quickly while there is still the opportunity to have you perform magic.”

“Like a clown,” he sneered. “That’s three more wishes that could alter reality. Three more ways to make everything worse.”

“How could it make everything worse?”

“You’ve read the history. Things always go wrong.”

“Hold on,” Jasmine said, dipping her brow at him, “you wouldn’t intentionally screw up my father’s wishes out of spite, would you?”

Jafar glared at her. “That sounds like you don’t trust me.”

“I’m not saying that at all. It’s just you’ve been in the habit for centuries to alter wishes into useless effects.”

“That certainly doesn’t sound very trusting. I have placed my life in your hands, Jasmine. There is no greater trust than that. Where is the reciprocation?”

“And how would you have me do that?”

“Come into the lamp with me.”

“What, now? Are you serious?”

“After today there will be no other opportunity, for you have led me to believe you would release me from this prison soon.”

“I’m not going into your lamp. Not while you’re acting like this.”

“Then you have proven that you don’t trust me.”

“I’m not accusing you of this, however that is a long used manipulation tactic, and I would like for you to recognize that it’s not the logic I’m resisting but the tone you have employed to get me inside your lamp.”

“You’re accusing me of manipulation?”

“I just said I wasn’t!”

“Perhaps we should assess your own behavior these last few weeks.”

Jasmine stared at him in shock. “You really think that I was somehow manipulating you?” she asked in rising anger. “So all the games of crate, the long talks through the nights, the tears and the laughter and everything else that happened that no other person has been granted from me, you think_ all of that_ was just an attempt to make a mischievous genie grant my wishes my way?”

“I am not making accusations either,” he told her. “But simply showing you how it feels to be falsely attacked.”

“So you say, but your first conversation with me was as truthful as you’ve ever been. As I recall, you were of the opinion that all queens and princesses were nothing but whores.”

“I do not think that, Jasmine. That was a cutting remark based on one anecdotal instance, which I readily admit does not apply here in any way.”

“What am I to think now? I was ready to be yours twice in the past twelve hours.”

“The sexual relationship with the Sultaness was entirely based on mutual hate for Hamish. You and I have something so much more and I am tired of wasting our time arguing about your feelings over something that has no bearing here.”

“Of course it has bearing. You’re basing my behavior to women of the past who have manipulated you to a degree in which you were transformed into a prisoner of magic. There is no room in your mind for trust.”

“Don’t tell me who I am or what I am not capable of. You have lived such a small and insignificant life within the walls of a grand palace. If anyone cannot be trustworthy, it’s you who has so little to fear.”

“This is how you feel about me then? I am simply another nuisance in your long life of slavery, of which you committed yourself to? Don’t blame me for your circumstances. What kind of man would knowingly convert himself into abominable power of which he cannot himself employ without the order of a master? You didn’t even know the ramifications of lost freedom before your enchantment which illustrates the scope of your ignorance.”

“I fought for survival just like any one else would do,” Jafar responded. “Perhaps because your life is not as rooted in reality as mine once was that you cannot understand the choices I made.”

“Or perhaps the choices you made reflect on a grander scheme in which you think your life is worth more than anyone else’s. Of course, you would choose slavery over death. It would be just like you to assume your prolonged suffering is somehow more meaningful than skirting your honorable death at the hands of hundreds.”

Jafar quirked a brow at her. “You seem to think I am no longer worthy of life after all. Which brings me to the realization that you have never once specifically said how you would free me.”

“I am not in the habit of killing, Jafar. How could you think I am as cold-hearted as that?”

“I should never have told you about the man who wished his wife dead. Now you think of me as a murderer.”

“I didn’t even take that into account about you!”

“But in your opinion you might consider me a villain or even already dead. And what little agony could that stir to kill a being already deemed too far gone?”

“Please, Jafar, you’re making up nonsense.”

“Hold on. Why have you delayed your wishes for so long? Never has anyone spent weeks thinking on a wish.”

“For the amount of time you have spent with me, I don’t see how you failed to note that I am very meticulous and not at all impulsive.”

“You had all the time and wisdom to make your wishes, but you didn’t. It’s because of your loneliness, isn’t it? I am simply your play thing that you didn’t want to give up.”

“By Allah, the arrogance on you!” she cried out. “Do you even hear yourself? You’ve spent centuries alone in your lamp with no one to tell you how asinine your claims are.”

“Tell me your intentions, Jasmine,” he demanded. “Where would I fit in your life if I were a man? Or would it be easier to just be rid of me?”

“This was supposed to be a conversation about Agrabah,” she said with a grit to her teeth. “But as soon as I broached you with the topic of making good for the world, you accuse me of treachery and manipulation. This says more about you than it does me.”

“You approached me with the desire to continually disrespect my humiliation as a genie slave,” he replied in the same tone. “This is reason enough to distrust you given that your actions don’t align with your words.”

“You are incapable of trust, Jafar.”

“You are incapable of respect, Jasmine.”

They had found their stalemate. They glared at each other, unwilling to be the first to look away. Neither one moved their focus from the other even when there was a sudden knock at her door.

“What is it?” Jasmine shouted, still eyeing Jafar in ire.

“Princess Jasmine,” Talia said from behind it, “your presence is requested in the throne room.”

“I was just there.”

“I know, but right after you left, another prince of Parakesh arrived to meet you.”

She furrowed her brows and glanced away from Jafar. “I didn’t hear any horns announcing his arrival,” she called back.

“He came without an entourage. Apparently he prefers to travel without luxury. He’s rather old compared to the other princes. I can tell your father you are feeling sick, if you like.”

Jasmine glanced at Jafar in surprise before running to the door and partially opening it to reveal Talia giving her a confused look. “Like how old?” she asked.

“I’m a terrible judge of age,” Talia said. “But older than the other princes who recently came to the palace. He’s at least well behaved this time around and seems to know a lot about history. He and the Grand Vizier are having an apparently thrilling conversation about ancient artifacts. Dull as dirt, if you ask me.”

“Which son is it?” she asked with enough eagerness for Talia to give her the side-eye.

“The second son of the kingdom of Parakesh. Prince Oded.”

Jasmine had to rein in her expletive of shock. “Tell father I’ll be right down.” She shut the door and turned to Jafar who stood in an iron stance with his arms folded tightly across his chest.

“So, he’s finally arrived,” he stated.

“Seems so,” she said as she walked to the hidden cabinet and opened it to reveal her books.

“And you’re just going to cast me aside.”

“I am not casting you aside, Jafar. We still don’t know what life will be like with you in it, so let’s just take the opportunity to meet the second son, especially since I only have right now to do it.”

“You still have plans to marry him, even after you said I could be free to be anything I want?”

“No, of course not. We don’t know that the third wish won’t cause unforseen complications.” She paused. “Or that your freedom would keep you in Agrabah. We may still need a prince in the future, so it’s more like I’m formulating a plan B.” She pulled out Omar’s notes as well and spread them across the table above her own notes so that she could make comparisons. “Omar wrote down that the second son, or rather Prince Oded as we now know him, is considered the most noble of the sons. He has never been wed, citing that education is his companion, and has been traveling the north seas to study the advanced medicines used up there.”

“This man doesn’t sound real,” Jafar remarked. “It’s like he’s a made up person in order to trap your interest.”

Jasmine shut her book hard enough to cause the illustrations to fly off the table. “Stop it, Jafar,” she demanded. “Let me tell you who has my full interest. A genie! A four hundred year old, one-of-a-kind, mystical phenomenon, who can make me laugh, make me cry, who challenges me in so many wonderful ways, and in which his entire existence complicates the intimate relationship I would very much like to have with him. Always putting down other men doesn’t make your case any stronger, Jafar. I don’t want to keep my options open, but don’t push me into considering it.”

Jafar stared at her, unable to say anything and in fear that anything he said would only instigate the fight further.

Jasmine felt the weight of his stare and she dropped her head to glare at the table till she calmed down. When she looked up, Jafar was still staring at her with his arms crossed and a solid frown upon his face. She could see his jaw clenching repeatedly, biting back harsh words.

“I have to go,” she said quickly and quietly as she walked to the door. “We will discuss everything when I get back.” She paused with her hand on the knob, wondering if it would be wiser to not leave him in such an angry state, but she wasn’t sure what she could say that would smooth things over in a matter of minutes. In the end she huffed out in a tired sigh and left the room with him still stewing over their argument.

* * *

Jasmine heard laughter coming from the throne room before she entered. It was at least a good sign and she stalled at the doorway to fluff up her hair and make herself presentable to someone who at least deserved to be welcomed with dignity even if she was now pushing thoughts of marriage to the side.

When she was ready, she walked in to find her father, Omar, and Prince Oded talking together in their own little circle. She could only see the prince from behind, and his robes did seem rich but terribly disheveled like he’d been wearing them for weeks. He was taller than Omar and her father by far, but so was everyone else in the kingdom.

“Ah, Jasmine!” her father called for her. “Come meet Prince Oded.”

She came forward and the prince turned to her with a beaming smile. He was a little older, perhaps in his forties, but rather handsome with a well trimmed salt and pepper beard and a full head of wavy black hair. She immediately stopped in her tracks.

“Hello, Princess Jasmine,” Prince Oded greeted with immense charm. “It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” He came to take her hand but she drew it back and shot him an accusatory glare.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “You’re not the second son of Parakesh.”

“What do you mean?” her father asked, looking to Prince Oded in new doubt. “Are you certain, Jasmine?”

Jasmine pointed to the prince and shouted, “Guards! Arrest this man!”

There were four guards in the room, two at each door. They all rushed towards them with swords drawn.

“Oh, dear,” Prince Oded said, clucking his tongue. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He raised his hand where a large ruby ring circling his middle finger emitted a red glow. He held it towards the guards and they were immediately surrounded by a red light, frozen in time like living statues.

“A sorcerer!” Omar cried out. “Run, Jasmine, run!”

“Too late, Princess,” Oded retorted as he waved his ring towards the doors and they both shut of their own accord. The large wooden bars lifted magically on their own and set themselves into the insets across the doors, barring them on the inside.

“Who are you?” the Sultan asked with eyes wide in alarm. He grabbed Jasmine and had her stand behind him despite the fact he was only tall enough to shield two-thirds of her.

“I am the sorcerer Oded,” he replied. “And I’ve come to take what is rightfully mine.”

* * *

After Jasmine had left, Jafar remained standing in the middle of the room, bitter and angry. The prospect of being freed that day seemed to be growing dimmer and dimmer when the night before it had been almost assured as the sun would rise. He was just as disappointed in himself for having put his faith in a woman who had no life experience whatsoever.

He had been looking forward to not just another life, but one with Jasmine. He wasn’t sure how she had managed to twist him around her finger, but it was undeniably so, and he was appalled that he let himself be used that way. Now, even his hope of being freed by death was dying away and it was possible that his life as a slave would pervade for centuries more to come.

With arms still crossed in anger, a wind from the open balcony fluttered the illustrations on the floor enough to make a quiet noise that caught his ear. He glanced down at the illustration, and found his gaze wandering to the picture of the second son of the first wife. What kind of prince would have Jasmine dashing out of her room while they were still locked in disagreement?

The image of the second son stared back at Jafar, knowing nothing about the problems he had caused there that day. The eyes spoke of intelligence even if nothing else about him was anything more than average. Jafar tensed hard, frozen in his spot as he stared back at the illustration in disbelief. His brows slowly furrowed so deep as to nearly meet across his forehead.

“That’s impossible,” he whispered to himself. Jafar was unable to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. He picked up the illustration and looked closely at the second son, probing the details of his face. He couldn’t explain it, but aside from that he instantly understood one truth. Jasmine was in trouble.

His first thought was to go to the balcony and call out loud enough for anyone to hear him, and then perhaps a passing servant might hear him then take his lamp to the throne room. He went outside, breathed in a lungful of air, but suddenly a thought occurred to him and he exhaled out in deflated purpose.

There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he_ should_ do. He glanced at the illustration in his hand like looking for confirmation.

After a moment’s hesitation, Jafar went back inside. He went to work shuffling Jasmine’s books together, stuffing them deep under her mattress, and then he went to the hidden cabinet and made sure the door was left wide open. With it now exposed, Jafar filtered inside his lamp and waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made another cameo, this time of a different live-action Jafar who is not a Jafar. If anyone is wondering, I took Oded Fehr's name and image for the character of the sorcerer.
> 
> One more chapter left and then the epilogue.
> 
> I appreciate everyone who commented on my last chapter! Sorry I'm taking so long to respond. I've been without electricity since Monday and it's kind of lucky I got it back today so that I could post this, lol.


	15. Chapter 15

Shut inside the throne room, Jasmine, the Sultan, and Omar couldn’t react quick enough as Oded the sorcerer magically blocked any escapes or possible rescues. With the doors closed, the guards outside wouldn’t be able to hear them scream. Oded had a careful watch on each of them and kept enough distance that neither would be able to overtake him, even if they all tried at once. Jasmine kept her wits about her, looking for any avenue of escape.

“I know about your strategic skills,” Oded told her, narrowing his eyes at her. “Don’t try anything. I have no fear of repercussions should your father find himself at the end of my magic.”

“What is it that you want?” Omar asked. “Take it and leave.”

Oded laughed. “Ah, but it’s not so simple. What I want is more than you can give. First, I must find the boy you call Prince Ali.”

“Ali?” the Sultan said. “What does he have to do with this?”

“I knew that boy was trouble,” Omar said with his hand fisted in hard conclusion.

“He’s not here,” Jasmine said. “He’s gone into town to help plan out the building of a library.”

Oded shook his head with a smile crossing his face. “Oh, Princess…that really did sound genuine, you know. Does your father know what a good liar you are?”

“We won’t help you take Ali,” the Sultan added.

“We won’t?” Omar mumbled under his breath.

“He is a prince now and part of our family.”

Oded shrugged. “That’s rather generous of you to treat him as one of your own, though I think it would bemuse you to know how that came to be.” Oded raised his hand and his ring glowed an eerie red, pulsing out like an alarm. “He’ll be here shortly. Why don’t we ask him?”

While Oded was engaged with his own banter, Jasmine was glancing all around, still searching for the right place and the right time to break away.

“I see you, Princess,” Oded said. She turned to look over at him. He had his ring raised toward her father in threat. “Don’t make me turn him into a rat.”

“Just do as he says, your highness,” Omar said to her.

That was certainly the opposite of what she wanted to do and even the fear in Omar’s eyes wouldn’t stop her. She looked up towards the window, the one looking out towards the garden where her balcony would be. The ledge was too high up for her but she hoped in some strange way that Jafar could see her.

Suddenly there was a strange scratching sound at one of the massive doors. Oded smiled and waved his hand, lifting the bar and allowing the guests to enter. Aladdin and Abu walked in, striding through like they were simply on a walk. As soon as they were through the door, Oded closed and barred it again.

“Abu!” Aladdin said in complaint. “This is the throne room! Why did you bring us in here?” Aladdin glanced up to see the others standing around, looking at him in bewilderment. “Oh, hey, it’s Oded!” Aladdin replied, pointing to the sorcerer. “Look, Abu! It’s the guy who led us to the cave.”

Oded fisted his hand and Aladdin suddenly lifted on an invisible wind with Abu clinging to his vest in terror. The wind brought them forward where they hung upside down in front of Oded.

“Where is the lamp?” Oded demanded.

“What?” Aladdin responded in shock. “What the hell is happening?”

“The lamp!”

“I used it!”

Oded rolled his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know. Where is the lamp now?”

“I don’t have it. I made all three wishes.”

“What did you do with it after you made your wishes?”

“What do you mean ‘what did I do with it?’”

“What do _you_ mean by what do I mean?”

“I mean that I don’t know what you mean!”

“How could you possibly not know what I mean? I want the lamp!”

The time was now. Oded was too busy trying to decipher Aladdin’s cryptic sentences. The closest window had a sizable drop beyond it but there was a tree close enough that Jasmine thought she’d be able to leap onto. She took off in a sprint.

The throne room was massive but she was light on her feet as she ran full speed towards the window. Behind her she could make out a thump as Oded dropped Aladdin on his head to redirect his magic. A skirmish followed and Omar yelped out in pain but there was no time to turn around and make sure they were all okay. Jasmine was close enough now and she stepped up onto the ledge and leapt as far as she could. The tree was right there, the branch as thick as a pole and sturdy enough to catch her. She reached out, the tips of her fingers touched the smooth bark, and then there was an invisible hand, large and cold, that grasped her and pulled her back in with a hard yank.

Jasmine fell back through the window and slid across the smooth floor until she came to a stop at Oded’s feet.

“I’ve always heard you were stubborn,” he said as he raised his hand and the glow of the ring picked her up and hung her in the air like being tied to an unseen cross. Coming out of her daze, she saw that her father and Omar were also stuck in the air just as she was. The side of Omar’s face was red where he had apparently been struck after putting up a fight.

Oded snapped his fingers and Aladdin was lifted onto his feet. Abu floated in the air like a balloon. “For the last time, where is the lamp?”

“For the last time,” Aladdin cried out, “I don’t have it! The lamp is back in the cave.”

Oded stared at Aladdin in complete befuddlement. “Why would it be back in the cave?”

“Because I used up all my wishes.”

“What does it being in the cave have to do with you using all your wishes?”

“What’s this about a lamp?” the Sultan demanded.

“I can answer that, sir,” Omar replied. “Prince Ali is actually a young man named Aladdin. He is the same boy who Jasmine met in the market three weeks ago when she ran away from the palace. I’m not sure how he was able to get his hands on a genie’s lamp but it stands to reason that he wished to be a prince. The locket was a magical enchantment that had been retroactively embedded in time to serve out it’s function on the day Aladdin came to the palace with it. That is why we have it in our memories. Your wife never had a bastard son and Ali is not Jasmine’s brother.”

“Wow, Omar, that was good!” Aladdin remarked. “You had it all figured out. No wonder Jasmine told me to stay away from you.”

“Which reminds me, there are other questions that I had that we won’t get into right now, but how someone as sharp as Princess Jasmine managed to not recognize Aladdin is quite concerning.”

“Fine, yes,” Jasmine admitted. “I knew who he was right away. But he’s a good boy with a poor past. Wouldn’t it be nice for Aladdin to never have to worry about when his next meal is, or where he’ll sleep?”

“Always charitable,” the Sultan said. “That’s my girl.”

“Can we just get back to my problem?” Oded said in frustration. “Such as where is the lamp? I didn’t go through all the trouble of finding a Diamond in the Rough just to come out empty handed.”

“Wait a minute,” Omar said with an arched brow. “Aladdin is a Diamond in the Rough?”

“Someone explain what that is to me,” the Sultan replied.

“It’s one who can open and enter a magical cave that beheld the magic lamp. It is foretold that a Diamond in the Rough is one of pure heart.”

“And Aladdin is one of them,” Jasmine emphasized. “He’s a good guy, Omar.”

“Back to my problem!” Oded shouted. “Where is the damned lamp?”

“This guy…” Aladdin said, shaking his head. “What aren’t you getting? I used my wishes, therefore the lamp is back in the cave. Duh.”

Oded raised his fist in the air and showed Aladdin the glow of the ring. “You have one more chance to tell me where the lamp is.” A choking sound brought everyone’s attention to Abu who held his little paws to his throat and scratched for air.

“Abu!” Aladdin cried out. “I’m telling the truth, Oded! The lamp is gone! Why won’t you believe me?”

“Why won’t _you_ believe _me_?” Oded asked, clenching his fist even harder. Abu gasped and choked with wet spasms.

“I do believe you!” Aladdin yelled out as he fell to his knees. “Release him!”

Oded pointed to the Sultan. “Perhaps you need more persuasion.” Beside her, Jasmine heard her father begin to gag and she turned to find him already red in the face.

“No, father!”

“Please!” Aladdin begged. “I don’t know where the lamp is!”

“Someone does,” Oded replied. Both Abu and the Sultan began to color blue.

“Stop!” Jasmine shouted. “I’ll tell you where it is! Just release them!”

Oded looked at her, detecting some truth, and then dropped his hand. Both Abu and the Sultan inhaled mightily with raspy breaths.

“Where is it?” Oded demanded.

“Jasmine?” the Sultan said hoarsely as he turned his head towards her. “You knew about the lamp?”

“Yeah, you knew about it?” Aladdin asked in shock.

“Where is it?” Oded demanded.

Jasmine paused for a moment, wondering if she could stall any longer by having Oded go on a fool’s errand. But by the way he was looking at her, he already had her figured out. There was only so much she could do before he started making good on his threats. Besides, Jafar was their only chance for rescue at the moment.

“In my room there is a hidden cabinet in the wall just inside the doorway to the balcony. The lamp is in there.”

“You had the lamp this whole time?” Aladdin squeaked. “You tricked me!”

“It wasn’t that hard,” she shrugged. “You’re dumb as hell, but you’re a good person, Aladdin.”

“Thanks?”

Oded turned to Aladdin. “You know where her room is? Go fetch the lamp. And do not release the genie on your way over here or your monkey dies.”

Aladdin frowned at him and turned towards the door. “I thought you were nice before. Now I just see you’re as mean as everyone else.”

“And be quick!” The door was unbarred for Aladdin as he walked through and then barred again.

They waited in near silence until Jasmine braved a question. “Why did you pose as the second son of Parakesh?”

Oded turned to her in confusion. “What does that matter?”

“You were looking for Aladdin, weren’t you? Why enter the palace under the pretense of being a son of Parakesh?”

“It was the easiest way to get into the palace,” he answered. “Yesterday, the monarchy brought news of building a library and that’s how I discovered that Aladdin was not only alive but also posing as a prince. Naturally, I figured he used a wish to escape the collapsed cave and then used another to become a prince. Who knows what else he wished for but I’m sure the genie tricked him into squandering it. Anyway, it’s well known that the Grand Vizier has sent out invitations to all the available princes of Parakesh. Though I am too old to pose as one of the younger princes, I am at least in the same age range as the older princes. Since the first son of Parakesh certainly wouldn’t leave his kingdom, I pretended to be the second.” Oded went up to her and gave her a skeptical look. “Why do you ask? I noticed you took me for an imposter right away. Now how could you know that?”

Jasmine remained silent but Omar answered for her. “The kingdoms send out illustrations of available members to wed. Quite suspiciously, mine went missing sometime yesterday,” Omar shot a look at Jasmine, “and as I don’t have the images memorized, I couldn’t determine whether you were the same prince or not.”

“I guess we all now know,” Oded said. “Though that still doesn’t explain why you would specifically ask about the second son of Parakesh.”

Jasmine remained tight lipped but felt the sting of embarrassment redden her cheeks. With nothing else to do, she waited for Aladdin to come back with the lamp.

* * *

Jafar didn’t have to wait long. He felt his lamp being jostled and heard Aladdin outside talking to himself.

“Dumb genie,” Aladdin said. “A lot fat of good you’ve done me. Can’t believe Jasmine lied.”

Jafar was on high alert as he was carried through the gardens and into the main building where Aladdin brought him into the throne room.

“Finally!” an unfamiliar voice called out. “Bring it here.”

“Gotta warn you though, this genie’s a huge dick.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard. Just give it to me.”

Jafar felt his lamp exchange hands, the temperature inside warmed by the heat of excitement in this new master’s grip.

“At last! Years of searching and it’s mine! It’s shinier than I thought it would be. I guess the black really brings out the gold.” There was a pause until he spoke again. “Everybody ready?”

Jafar saw the rub against his lamp, the silhouette of a giant hand ran across his world like an eclipse inside his realm. He filtered out on command.

The throne room is the most massive and impressive room in the entire palace, reaching heights of fifty feet and bearing a radial arc of another fifty. Jafar used as much of the room that was warranted as he extended out in a cloud of red smoke and let it dissipate around him to reveal his imposing presence. He glanced around the room to find Jasmine, the Sultan, and Omar strung up by invisible binds in a basic magical cross enchantment. The monkey was floating in the air under a novice bouyancy technique and Aladdin seemed to be constrained by his own idiocy.

The man who held the lamp looked up at Jafar in wide-eyed amazement. “By Allah!” he cried out. “My, he is a masterful specimen, is he not?”

“What is they bidding, master?” Jafar asked with arms folded across his chest. His voice, deep and guttural, rang against the dome of the ceiling like a large, brass bell. He tightened his muscles, making them bulge out in intimidation.

“You’re mine, genie! All mine! How I have longed to see you in the flesh for years!”

Jafar quirked a brow at him. “What is thy bidding, master?” he asked again with impatience.

“Not so fast, genie. You are the greatest trickster in the history of Agrabah. I must make a wish so explicit so as not to be misconstrued.”

“Surely, you’ve thought years on this,” Jasmine said.

“Of course I have!” Oded replied. “But there are so many things one can wish for. I know for a fact to never wish to become sultan, for if you knew the stories you would see that it never ends well.”

“Perhaps wish small so that he can’t screw it up,” Omar said, nodding his head towards Jafar. “Or at least if he does, it won’t be as burdensome.”

“Not a bad idea,” Oded replied as he circled the floor in deep thought. “I must become sultan without wishing it.” He approached Jasmine and inspected her face, nodding once in approval. “Yes, you’ll do fine. How old are you?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re quite pretty or I wouldn’t bother with this route.”

“And you’re lucky Aladdin ended up in the palace where you needed to be anyway,” she replied.

“That _was _rather lucky, wasn’t it? Though most people who wield the lamp wind up in the palace one way or another so I wouldn’t give it too much thought.”

“What do you intend to do to my daughter?” the Sultan asked in alarm.

“Don’t you worry yourself, Sultan,” Oded said, tapping the Sultan on his fat cheek. “I’m not going to hurt her. But I do need her to behave.” He looked over at her. “Which we all know she won’t do.”

“You can bet on that,” she replied.

“I thought as much.” Oded pointed up to the massive red giant still keeping vigil watch over them like a god overseeing his creation. “Genie! I will make my first wish! I wish for you to retroactively create a law of Agrabah that allows the current Princess of Agrabah to legally be wed to any man she chooses if she is not married by the age of…oh, I don’t know…,” Oded squinted an eye at Jasmine, carefully judging her age, “…let’s say by age twenty.”

“As you wish, master.” Jafar raised his hand and pointed towards Oded. A quick strike of lightning sailed out of his finger and formed into a parchment at Oded’s feet. The sorcerer picked it up with a laugh and unrolled it, and unrolled it some more, and then unrolled it some more.

“This is rather long and bureaucratic,” Oded remarked as he kept unrolling the law. “For Allah’s sake, what’s with all this jargon? Lawmakers are the worst. Where does it say she can marry any man she chooses?”

“Section five, paragraph twelve,” Jafar stated.

“Section five?” Oded kept unscrolling, looking for anything that might be section five, but coming up with nothing. “Screw it,” he finally said, rolling the parchment back up. “Does this law say that I am legally allowed to marry Princess Jasmine and that the marriage is binding?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s nearly done.”

“You’re just going to take the genie at his word?” Omar asked.

“Yes. This genie doesn’t lie,” Oded replied.

Omar seemed skeptical. “But how do you know that?”

“It’s in all the research. I know all there is to know about genies, especially this one. Sure, there’s conflicting statements through many of the texts, but there has always been a running theme throughout and that theme is that this genie never lies.”

“But, you just believe everything you read?”

“Genie,” Oded called out, though his eyes never left Omar’s. “Do you ever lie?”

The genie boomed out a single word that echoed through the dome. “No.”

Oded shot Omar a self-satisfied smile.

“But you see where the fallacy lies, don’t you?” Omar asked. “The genie could be lying about not ever lying. This is just standard circular reasoning.”

“Never in your entire tenure have I ever had to tell you this, Omar,” the Sultan remarked. “But shut up.”

“My apologies, your highness,” Omar replied with a bow of his head. “Habits of always looking for the catch.”

Oded looked to Omar in thought. “Before, when you knew me as Prince Oded, you proved that you are more clever and educated than most other men I’ve known. When I am sultan, I could use a good man like you.”

Omar flinched back with a frown. “I have been in this court for over two decades. I could never betray my sultan to serve another who does not deserve the crown.”

Oded shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you’ll die.”

“Then so be it, but at least I died with honor beside a noble king.”

Jasmine glanced over to Omar, looking for anything false stemming from his behavior, but the Grand Vizier seemed genuine as he held his chin up in defiance. She then turned back to Jafar who was so enormous that she wasn’t even sure he recognized them as humans. They could have been mice to a mythical being like him. Her heart sunk as he steered his eyes away from her, resolved to keep to a different master. The thought that he so easily switched servitude from her to Oded was hurtful enough to splinter her heart.

Oded smirked at Omar’s words. “Noble king…what nonsense. When has he ever done anything noble in his life?”

“He’s never taken people hostage,” Jasmine replied. “That’s at least noble.”

“Says his lifelong victim,” Oded answered.

“In terms of recent evidence, I must come to the sultan’s aid in elevating his reputation,” Omar said. “His highness has taken excellent strides in leadership lately and has been working hard to make responsible choices for the citizens.” He suddenly looked down to the floor with narrowed eyes.

“Please, what this Sultan has done in his life could fill half a page.” Oded pointed up at the genie. “Now, here is a being who has lived many lives. In fact, he filled tomes of history with just his first. It has been said that he was once the smartest man in the world, and so if you’ll excuse me, I must ponder how to word this next wish so that he doesn’t manipulate it.”

“No kidding,” Aladdin said. “He’ll twist every word against you.”

“I forgot you were still here,” Oded replied, glancing in his direction.

“Like you forgot me in the cave after it collapsed. Yeah, thanks a lot.”

“You’re not under any magical influence. I’m surprised you haven’t tried to rescue your adopted family, being a Diamond in the Rough and all.”

“I always do what’s right,” Aladdin boasted happily.

“I guess what’s right and wrong is up for interpretation.”

“Just like the truth,” Aladdin replied. “Abu, now!”

Oded spun around prepared for a fight and was confused to see Abu still floating in the air in equal bafflement. The ape shrugged his shoulders and Oded realized too late. He felt the lamp yanked from his hands.

“No!”

“Genie!” Aladdin cried out as he raised the lamp towards the sky in show. “I wish to save my royal family who Oded is keeping hostage and I specifically mean Abu, the Sultan, Jasmine, and that grand vizier who’s always been a jerk to me!”

The genie glowered down at Aladdin with brawny arms still flexed across his chest. He did nothing.

“Oh,” Aladdin said as it dawned on him. “Oops.”

Oded whirled a wind and swept it at Aladdin. It knocked him off his feet, and the lamp went flying through the air. Aladdin came crashing down to the floor, full body spread-eagled out, and when he moved he found he was glued to the ground. The lamp came tumbling back down and Oded caught it with one hand.

“Nice try,” Oded said, “but you already told me you didn’t have any wishes left.”

“It’s all right, dear boy” the Sultan said. “You tried your best and we’re still grateful.”

“Are we?” Omar asked under his breath. “He called me a jerk.”

“We are,” Jasmine stressed towards Omar. “And jerks snoop through people’s rooms, so you be the judge of th-.”

“Genie!” Oded called out. “Grant me my second wish! I wish for Princess Jasmine to fall in love with me!”

“What the-?” Jasmine stammered in shock. “Why? I don’t want to fall in love with you.”

“By falling in love with me, you will want us to wed and then I will become Sultan through legal means, which is where everyone else has failed,” Oded claimed. “I have figured out the loophole!”

Jasmine looked sidelong at Oded, wondering why he was making a wish that was not within the genie’s powers when she realized he had somehow not known one of the basic laws of magic. She glanced up at Jafar who had not changed his expression except for the subtle arch of a brow.

“I thought you said you know all there is to know of this genie,” she remarked. “Yet he’s not granting your wish.”

“Do it, genie!” Oded commanded. “Make her fall in love with me right now!”

“As you command,” Jafar stated. He raised his finger and shot out a magical impulse of light. It surrounded both Jasmine and a smiling Oded and they both suddenly disappeared from sight. Almost instantaneously, a large sail from a boat was strung up from the top of the ceiling to the floor and the two beings reappeared near the top. Falling from the ceiling, Jasmine and Oded screamed out until they plunged into the sail and slid down the entire panel of cloth, slowing their descent as they neared the floor.

Oded managed to keep the lamp in his grip but had no way of keeping his magic active. The Sultan, Omar, and Abu were all dropped to the ground. Aladdin kicked up off the floor as well as the four soldiers who came out of their frozen spell. They all got enough of their bearings to run to the edge of the sail in an attempt to catch Oded as he slid down it with Jasmine at his side.

Oded saw his inevitable capture coming. In a panic, he managed to shoot off a smoke bomb from within his ring before hands could grasp at his cloak. A cloud of white smoke puffed out and instantly encompassed every person in the room. There were hacking coughs coming from every direction as they all breathed in the burn of the smoke. It took a while for the smoke to clear, but once it did, Oded had not fallen into their grasp.

“Where is…_cough_…he?” Omar asked, swiveling around the room. As soon as he said it, a red glow lit up what was left of the smoke and they were all restrained once more by an invisible grip. They were lined up on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder, except for Jasmine who stood separated from the rest after having landed and skidded across the floor.

Oded appeared out of the smoke, ridding the cough from his lungs, but with just enough control to keep everyone under his magical power.

“Genie!” Oded hacked, coughing into his sleeve and then looking up at Jafar with maniacal anger. “What the fuck was_ that_?”

Jafar’s only response was to shrug his shoulders.

“You said you knew all there was to know about genies,” Jasmine told him with a sneer. “Because you should know that genies cannot make people fall in love, he assumed you meant something different.”

“A sail though?”

“The luff.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! This genie can definitely make people fall in love! He’s done it before!”

“If you’re referring to the woman who wished to marry a very old but very wealthy man, he didn’t actually cause anyone to fall in love. Shallow hearts don’t need love for them to enter into commitment.”

“You know so much then?” Oded responded in rage. He stalked up to her as she struggled against her magical binds, and pointed a finger close to her face. “Tell me this. How do you want to die? Because I am down to one wish and it seems I will have to resort to killing this entire monarchy for my place on the throne.”

“That is impossible.”

The genie’s voice was thunderous but it wasn’t the decibel level that caused everyone to turn their gazes up at him.

Oded paused, for the genie had said almost nothing up until this point. “What do you mean?” he shouted towards the genie.

“The Princess cannot be killed by your hand or anyone else’s.”

Oded stared at the genie in bewilderment before snapping his attention back to Jasmine. He eyed her closely, perhaps looking for some clue that indicated her invincibility.

“What did you wish for?” Oded asked in genuine surprise.

Jasmine looked up to the genie, shielding her confusion as best as she could. “What did I wish for?”

“Yes, this genie doesn’t lie,” Oded said impatiently. “What was the wish?”

“I…uh…” Jasmine stalled. Jafar looked down at her, expression mostly indecipherable except for the hint of a frown at the corner of his mouth. She had seen that frown before, always while they played crate, always when he had a trick up his sleeve. “I wished that…uh…”

“Tell me!” Oded screamed. He was nose-to-nose with her, intimidating her into submission. He was close enough for her to feel the spit on her cheek from the expulsion of his words. He was close enough for her to feel the tremor of anger in his hands. He was close enough for her to feel the spout of the lamp dig against her rib.

“I wished…” Jasmine began, glancing up at the genie. From above, Jafar looked down at her, giving her a soft look that conveyed his faith in her. She wasn't sure how she earned his trust back but Jasmine narrowed her eyes and nodded up at Jafar before turning back to look at Oded in defiance. “You want to know what I wish? I wish you were powerless and never given a chance to use your last wish.”

“What?” Oded said with his head ticked to the side in confusion.

From above, Jafar smiled and unfurled his arms. “As you command,” he told her.

“_What_?” Oded shouted as he spun around to face the genie in disbelief. “No!”

Jafar pointed at Oded and the white shine of a beam shot out, hitting Oded like a bolt of lightning. Oded screamed out in terror, immobilizing him like hanging on a cross as he was drained of all his magic.

With his enchantments gone, the Sultan, Omar, Aladdin, Abu, and the four guards were released from their magical binds and fell to the floor. They then stood up while watching in amazement of the genie taking every ounce of the sorcerer’s power. When Oded was impotent of all his magic, the genie dropped him to the ground like a bag of sand.

“Arrest him!” the Sultan demanded. Two of the guards each grabbed one of Oded’s arms and pulled him up. The other two went to the large door and unbarred it.

“My sorcery!” Oded cried. “I am nothing without it!” The guards dragged him away and Oded was still crying out, now in rising anger. “You still had a wish! How could I have known? Why hadn’t you used your wish, Princess? Why?”

Jasmine, Aladdin and Abu, the Sultan, and Omar watched with great relief as Oded was dragged out of the chamber towards his prison. They were silent during the aftermath of such a violent ordeal, until the Sultan turned and made a little gasp under his breath when he spotted the magical item.

The lamp was lying on the floor and the Sultan slowly walked up to it, picking it up in wonder. “A genie’s lamp,” he said to himself. “A real genie’s lamp.”

Omar came out of his shock to stand next to the Sultan with an excitement that was rarely displayed. “What should we do with it, sire?” he asked.

“I-I’m not sure.” The Sultan tapped the lamp in rising giddiness. “Dear me, this is a priceless opportunity. We can’t be rash now.”

No, of course not,” Omar agreed, however his hands trembled to touch the lamp and his smile was wider than Jasmine had ever seen it before. “But think of all the things we could do with it! Think of all the citizens we could help instantaneously!”

Jasmine barely heard their discussion. She stared up at Jafar, who was back to his arms-across-his-chest stance. He stared down at her, intimidating and inexpressive. Anyone else would have not been able to note any underlying emotions emanating from his face, but Jasmine did.

“I can’t believe you still had a wish left!” her father told her in the background of her mind.

“And thank Allah for that,” Omar added.

“Mine were gone within five minutes,” Aladdin remarked.

She wasn’t paying attention to them. She and Jafar held each other’s gazes as her heart raced with the weight of his fate. His lamp was exposed. There was nowhere to hide. His subjugation was imminent. His slavery would hold for centuries down the line.

“We can’t have just anyone making wishes,” she heard Omar say. “After you have made yours and I have made mine, who else could we trust to make a responsible wish?”

He had not turned his gaze from her but his features had softened as Jafar stared at Jasmine. He didn't seem to be upset or scared for himself now that he was exposed. He looked at her and she knew he was glad she was safe. She was struck by how much she already missed him.

“Do you have any suggestions?” the Sultan asked.

“How about Marwan?”

Jasmine was up and approaching her father with a quick step. No one noticed her until she had pulled the lamp from out of her father’s hands.

“Jasmine-?”

She held the lamp up for Jafar to see.

“Genie!” she shouted. Tears were already forming at the corner of her eyes. “I wish you free from this life!”

Even he seemed surprised by her actions. His brows shot up his forehead and his arms loosened out of his cross as he was suddenly surrounded in a silhouette of yellow light. He felt a tug at his manacles and he held them up in perplexity just as they ripped apart like paper and broke away from his wrists. The yellow light snapped all around him like electricity in the process of an overload. Jafar shut his eyes and grit his teeth as he held back a growl of pain until the air darkened around him in a fizzle of red clouds. The snapping light penetrated into him, piercing him from every point and the genie roared out with his muscles flexed in terrible tension. The red clouds surrounded the yellow light as thunder echoed through the throne room with the simultaneous roar of the genie. Suddenly the yellow light burst out through the red mist and formed an orange fire of ember like a sunset located entirely within the dome of the palace. The explosion of light set off a zephyr around them, whirling with hurricane force as they all took cover from the blinding lights and deafening noise. The magic died off and once the clouds dissipated did everyone witness to the event slowly peek out from beneath their arms to find the space the genie had been occupying now very empty.

The silence was almost as loud as the outcome of her wish. Jasmine felt eyes on her, set in disbelief. When no one said anything, she glanced over at her father whose mouth was still hanging open in great shock.

“Dear god…” he finally said in a daze.

“It’s gone…” Omar remarked with the same expression. He stood up and brushed off the dirt from his blue robes then looked about the floor of the throne room. “The lamp. It's gone. Everything is gone.”

“Father,” Jasmine replied, unable to meet her father’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Jasmine,” he said coming over to her. To her surprise, he brought his arms out and embraced her in a warm hug. “There is no reason for apologies. That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen anyone ever do.”

“I must say that I was eager to use the magic of the genie,” Omar said to her. “But the complications he would bring would have only been disastrous to the kingdom. It was the wisest move to make anyone could have made.”

His sincerity had Jasmine grateful but puzzled. “I have many questions for you, Omar.”

“And I have many questions for you, Princess Jasmine,” he replied. “But first, let us take a step back from this moment. Too much has happened here today.”

“So…” Aladdin said darting his eyes to the Sultan, Omar, and Jasmine, “does this mean I can’t live here anymore?”

“Aladdin, is it?” the Sultan said as he came to him and clapped his hand at his back. “You are still welcome, though I’d like the truth about how you came to be here. Maybe we could discuss this over a banana yogurt?”

“Yes, sir, your highness!” Aladdin answered while he followed the Sultan with Abu on his shoulder.

* * *

The kingdom’s official stance of the events that day was that a sorcerer had infiltrated his way into the throne room at a time when the Sultan and his daughter were holding court with the Grand Vizier. With the intent to kill the Sultan and his daughter, the sorcerer was thwarted by the Princess’ quick thinking to throw herself out the window and into a tall tree, then after climbing down she alerted the guards who overwhelmed and captured the sorcerer. Aladdin, Abu, and the genie were left out of all accounts.

Once Omar and the ministers read over the law the genie had magically enacted, they realized he had filled the parchment with loads of loopholes. Supposing the sorcerer’s second wish had succeeded and Jasmine fell in love with him, it was still the sorcerer’s duty to jump through an impossible number of hoops to actually be allowed to marry a royal. Of the many tasks he had to accomplish, Oded would have had to take the princess into the city and buy her flowers, play Crate with her until he won, take her on a boat and sail down to the nearest large port and back again as fast as the boat could go, ride with her into the desert and camp out under the stars, and other many tasks that seemed highly suited for the princess at the cost of the suitor. Inexplicably, the genie specifically noted that if Oded had managed to fulfill his tasks, the last thing that was required of him was to be castrated and never allowed to enter Jasmine's room. Omar and the ministers had a good laugh and lamented that the mischievous genie’s law jargon was actually quite expert in it's bureaucratic vernacular.

* * *

After that day, Jasmine was quieter than usual. She stayed in her room though she could often be seen up on her balcony wistfully looking towards either the boats on the river or at the main road up the palace hillside. A solid week passed and from then on she disappeared into her room entirely. It was assumed that she was finding it hard to deal with the trauma of nearly being killed, and so she was left alone because it was known that was how she preferred to deal with her thoughts.

The Sultan tried to speak with her but Jasmine was not ready to unburden her soul to a man who wept every time he saw that she was hurt in some way. She kept the truth to herself, only telling her father that she hadn’t known what to wish for and had kept the lamp hidden in her room without consulting the genie. Though he knew in the back of his mind that she wasn’t telling him everything, he was relieved to hear that the infamously mischievous genie had not been given a chance to harm her.

Since she had released him, Jasmine now woke up in the mornings to an empty table. Without Jafar’s lamp, the room felt big but her world so small. Her heart hurt terribly at his absence but even to be without the lamp denied her that one comfort of waking up to it, and that was now gone forever. Her wish had been left open for him to deal with, but she had no way of knowing what it was he had chosen. He might have chosen life, gone to another kingdom to live out his freedom far from Agrabah and away from the people who did him the most wrong. He might have chosen death, thinking that he no longer was relevant as a man and that she did not want him in her life. The worst part was not knowing what happened to him, for no matter how hurtful his words had been in the end, she wanted only the best for him. She turned over in bed, resigned to wallow in her pain and hoping it was true that time heals all wounds.

Loneliness pervaded her worse than before when she hadn’t known the happiness of a strong companionship. It seemed Jafar had been a devil after all, showing her that she was not only missing out on the company of others but also making it so that she didn’t want anyone else but him. She cried, wishing she could have at least said good bye.

There was a knock at her door.

“I’m sleeping in today,” Jasmine called out. Her voice had a catch of sadness that Talia was sure to hear.

“It’s Omar,” came the reply.

Jasmine sat up in bed in bafflement. Omar had never come to see her before. Up until the bird incident just over a week ago, she hadn’t even known he knew where her room was at all. She figured he was here to smooth over the events that had happened in the throne room, which she was reluctant to talk about because few things escaped Omar’s insight. Still, she was curious enough to get up out of bed and head towards the door.

She opened it a crack to reveal the Grand Vizier waiting for her with a look upon his face that said he was here to be genuine. “I came to apologize for my actions,” he said to her. “I should not have meddled with your affairs and pressured you to marry a prince. I have my reasons however none of it gives me an excuse to have treated you so disrespectfully.”

Jasmine narrowed an eye at him curiously. She had never in her life trusted him and she didn’t even know why. Now she suspected that it was due to his keen acumen and that he was one of the few who could easily suss her out, exposing her vulnerabilities that she tried so hard to keep hidden. As she looked at him, this time taking into account that he had no ulterior motives, she recognized that she had been much too harsh on him in the past and that even if he knew how to hurt her, he certainly wouldn’t do it out of loyalty to her and the kingdom.

“It is I who should be apologizing to you, Grand Vizier,” she said, referring to him by his title for the first time. He tried hard not to flinch back in surprise. “If you have time this afternoon to speak with me, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“I will make time,” he replied, though she knew it was at a cost to all the other issues he was dealing with on a daily basis.

“Thank you.”

“And before I go.” He handed her a small parchment. “This came just now. Please know that I did not personally summon him. Your father is prepared to do as you will.”

As soon as Omar left, Jasmine closed the door and opened the parchment.

_A Prince of Parekesh, Second son of the First Wife, seeks an audience with the Sultan of Agrabah and the Princess of Agrabah upon his arrival._

He would be there that very day. Possibly within only an hour. What would have once stymied her into excitement now only dulled low in her chest.

* * *

In the receiving room, Jasmine sat on her throne beside her father’s larger one. Omar stood to the right as they all waited for the coming prince.

“This time we’ve assured that the prince coming here is truly who he claims to be,” the Sultan told her, giving her a look of concern. “You do not have to meet with him if you’re not up to it, my dear.”

“It’s fine, father,” she replied. “Let us be respectful to the prince for having traveled so far to greet us.”

He nodded his head once and turned to the door in wait.

Jasmine was too sorrowed to feign cheer. They couldn’t have known how much the genie meant to her, how she had been falling in love with him for the past two weeks, because all they knew was that she had secreted him till she could figure out something to wish for. No one knew of the world she had truly lost.

Now it was like salt in the wounds that the prince she had hoped might make a good sultan to Agrabah was coming to see her after she had discovered that she no longer wanted just a diplomatic union. She wanted love in her marriage, and to be adored and desired, and to have that passion that she now knew existed. This was not something she had ever considered when choosing a mate, and she would have never considered if it wasn’t for Jafar. She mourned the thought that she might never feel so deeply for someone like that again.

The giant double doors to the room began to open and Jasmine braced herself. The prince didn’t come with a parade announcing his arrival. There was no fanfare, and his entourage was reasonably small for a prince of high standing. Ten loyal servants, all carrying a gift box, entered the throne room.

And then there he was, the Prince of Parakesh, second son of the first wife, heir to the throne of Parakesh by only two degrees. He walked in with a confident grace, presenting himself as full of purpose and composure.

He looked so much like his illustration that it was as though he had stepped right out of it to appear before her in court that day. A week ago she would have been high in expectations and interest, but at the moment she felt numbed by it all. It was difficult to be enthusiastic when her loss was still a deep, fresh wound.

The Prince strode towards the thrones, stopping twenty feet away to bend on one knee with a humble bow.

“It is a pleasure to meet the Sultan and the Princess of Agrabah,” he said. “I have heard great tales of your wisdom and respectability.”

The Sultan was a little slow on the reply. Jasmine could tell by her father’s arched brow that the prince did not look like what he had expected. “We’re pleased to have you come all this way to seek my daughter’s hand in marriage,” the Sultan answered. “Though I will warn you that Jasmine is choosy in her decision of a partner.”

“Her grace is very discerning so we hope you understand that we respect her wishes when it comes to finding a mate who she will be attached to for the rest of her life,” Omar added.

They seemed to be gently letting the prince down. She wanted to say something on her own behalf but said nothing since she wasn’t sure that her melancholy wouldn’t make itself known in her voice.

“That is quite understandable,” the prince responded. “I suspect her highness is discerning out of concern for her kingdom. After all, there is more to it than just being a husband that will sit by her side.” He said it for all to hear but was looking directly at her. For the first time ever, Jasmine felt herself perk up in rising prospect. Never had anyone said anything that was so astute when it pertained to her endeavors. “I have brought gifts,” he continued, “to aid in her decision, for I consider this very much an interview for more than just her hand.”

The prince went to his first servant who stood holding one of the boxes. Opening it, the prince drew out a contraption that Jasmine didn’t recognize but looked intriguing.

“A star gazer,” the prince explained as he held it up for them to see. “To look at the stars and study their cycles in the night sky.”

Jasmine’s, the Sultan’s, and Omar’s brows all shot up their foreheads in surprise and all for different reasons. Jasmine could hear her father whisper under his breath to Omar, “That’s an odd gift.”

The prince went to the next servant and opened the box she held. “A wind wheel,” he said, holding up a metallic looking instrument with two bars crossed in a t. “It tells the direction of the wind and is very useful for sailing the rivers.”

Jasmine sat upright in her seat, giving the prince a suspicious look from the corner of her eye.

The prince went to the third servant. Pulling the contents out of the box, he held up a smaller, more beautiful box with gold inlay and of intricate design. “A one-of-a-kind Crate board made specifically for her highness, for it is known that the princess is widely regarded as a master of this particular game.” He looked to her, giving her a respectful bow of his head. “And one of whom I’d be interested in pitting my wits against.”

“I don’t understand these gifts,” the Sultan again whispered to Omar.

Jasmine rose from her throne. The Sultan and the Grand Vizier glanced at her in confusion but said nothing. The prince noticed her and paused for a moment before continuing with the next box. He drew out a map and unrolled it so that they could see the illustration. “This is a map displaying all the locations I have traveled to from afar. It would be my pleasure to personally escort the princess to each and every destination she chooses.”

“I’m not sure I approve of this prince,” the Sultan said under his breath, though Jasmine barely heard it. She approached the prince cautiously, her eyes narrowed in inspection of his face, which was rather long, boasting sharp cheek bones.

The prince kept speaking as she came nearer. He opened the next box, pulling out several scrolls and holding one in presentation. “A proposal I came up with some time ago that depicts a six-point plan to offer up education solutions not just for the rich but for the women and the destitute. These other scrolls address crime statistics, economic progress, and cultural diversity.”

He put the scrolls away and turned to find Jasmine inches in front of him. He swallowed hard, slightly arching back as she looked closely at him, her eyes darting all over his facial features despite the fact he was so much taller than her. Possibly the tallest man in the court.

Everyone was silent when she reached up to his face, gliding her finger down the length of his bearded jaw that was immaculately shaved in fine lines and ending with some length hanging a few inches beneath his chin.

“I have one more gift for you,” he told her, his voice going soft. The prince stood in place, allowing Jasmine to study his appearance, and he held out his hand so that the last servant could place the gift in his palm. He held it out to her, and she looked at it and nearly crumbled to the ground in overwhelming joy.

The gold etchings on the black lamp seemed shinier than before as he tenderly placed it in her hands.

“Within this lamp I have placed my heart,” he said so that only she could hear. “I wish for you to have it for you have stolen it before and so richly deserve it now.”

The lamp was nearly dropped as Jasmine grabbed him by his cloak and pulled him down, forcing him to bend over so that she could hungrily capture his lips with hers. He reacted first in shock, but then closed his eyes and relaxed into it in equal reciprocation.

The Sultan and Omar stared at the spectacle in bewilderment, glancing at each other momentarily to make sure the other saw what was happening, and then turning back to witness the princess eagerly kiss this man she had presumably just met.

“Was it the Crate board, I wonder?” the Sultan asked aloud to no one. He cleared his throat loudly, grateful when Jasmine pulled away from the prince, but not without leaving several quick and needy kisses. However, they remained in each other’s arms, much too close for the Sultan’s approval.

“I thought you had chosen death,” Jasmine said to him, lips still close to his so that they spoke only to each other. “I was in pain at the thought and couldn’t imagine a life without you.”

“I’m sorry you suffered for so long,” the prince told her. He kept her hand in his with both pressed over his heart. “I found myself a very long way from here, but I came as fast as I could.”

And to the Sultan’s begrudging, Princess Jasmine pulled him in again. To break up his daughter’s uncharacteristic display of affection, he clapped loudly and said, “You have won my daughter’s heart, second son of Parakesh! Tell the court your name.”

Jasmine smiled upon his mouth before pulling away. “His name is Jafar,” she said for all to hear. “Prince Jafar of Parakesh. Future sultan of Agrabah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second son was Jafar all along! I'm curious how many of you guessed that once Jafar saw the picture of the second son and recognized himself.
> 
> There is only the epilogue left, which is written but in a state of disarray. We will find out how the kingdom prospers with Jasmine and Jafar at the reins.
> 
> Also, what the hell was up with Omar this whole time? That will be discovered too.


	16. Chapter 16

The prince was studying as he always did, scribbling notes while he delved into a parchment about novel concepts concerning sickness and ailments. It was thought that bathing and good hygiene prevented many diseases, which would keep the overall kingdom’s citizens plus it’s workforce strong.

It was well known that the prince was one of the most driven men in the five kingdoms. From an early age he already showed signs of being naturally inclined towards every area of education. He even showed aptitude with physical strengths such as horse riding and combat. And unbeknownst to everyone but his most loyal servants, he wielded magic as well as he wielded his sword.

But the prince, for all his charm and cunning, had never taken a wife. While his oldest brother, the future sultan, already had a harem that his wife the future Sultaness despised, the prince did not have interest in it at all. When asked why he was not married, he felt compelled to answer that ‘education is his companion’ and he gave no other explanation. In truth, the prince was waiting for something, but he didn’t know what. All he knew was that he felt as though he was simply coasting in his body, soaking up as much knowledge and skill as he could until the day that he was called by possibly a higher being, despite the fact the prince did not believe in gods. Currently, he was in the library of a kingdom far from his own, learning new things that he doubted would ever be put to use because his brother would be the one with all the power.

The prince was in the middle of figuring out how to use water to the greatest efficiency when he was suddenly knocked out of his chair by an invisible force. It was an assault that began at the center of his body, swelling as a ball of heat within his stomach that spread out through his limbs until he was encompassed entirely by the intrusion. Groaning at the energy that was building inside him, he croaked out through gritted teeth while the heat dissipate through him, warming his blood enough that he felt like a new animal fresh from the womb. He gasped out with a finality that ended the attack on him but the sensation had been so great and so sudden that for a a few seconds he could only lay on the floor in a fetal position.

Slowly, he stood up, studying his hands in complete shock before patting at his black and red robes, and everything else that was both new and old to him. Everything was as it had once been. He ran his hands through his beard and over his face before glancing at his wrists and noting the lack of manacles. His attention was drawn to the item lying at his feet, and he picked it up, looking at it in bittersweet happiness. The lamp was inert now, nothing more than an occasional light for the dark.

The door to the library swung open and one of the prince’s most trusted servants stopped at the doorway, giving him a look of concern. “Your highness!” he said, ticking his head to the side in worry. “Are you all right? There was a loud commotion coming from this room.”

Though he was essentially meeting this man for the first time in his life, the body he had inhabited retained all the memories from the past. It had been on auto-pilot, taking on all the behaviors and actions that he would have done, waiting for the day he would be back to claim it.

Prince Jafar straightened up, taking on a serious tone. “Alert everyone to pack up their things. We leave as soon as we’re ready.”

“Leave?” the servant asked. “Where are we going?”

“To Agrabah.”

* * *

The prince and his entourage of ten loyal servants were so far away that they were outside the reign of the five kingdoms. It took a solid week of hard traveling to reach the kingdom where the sun shone brightest.

On the way there, the prince bought an array of odd gifts that seemed to have no use for their travels. They were not traveling by boat so there was no reason to buy a windwheel. They already knew the stars so the star gazer the prince purchased was nothing more than a toy for a scientific mind. The expensive crate board was much too heavy to use than the well worn one they had carried since the prince had begun his travels. Whenever they were stopped for the night, the prince scribbled furiously in his rolls of parchment, detailing out his ideas pertaining to education or the judicial system. The light he used to write came from an old black lamp that he had inexplicably picked up from some place that nobody knew when or where.

By the time they had arrived in Agrabah, the servants were exhausted and the prince seemed heavily withdrawn. For the first time ever, they noticed he seemed nervous. It wasn’t until he had sent a messenger to the palace requesting an audience with both the Sultan and the princess that they realized he was thinking about taking on a wife. They had traveled by his side for years and not once had he ever mentioned an interest in anyone, either man or woman. They weren’t even sure how he had known that the Princess of Agrabah was looking for a husband.

Once they entered the palace and laid eyes on the princess of Agrabah, the servants all glanced at one another in bewilderment. She was much younger than the prince and didn’t look interested in meeting anyone on that day. They tensed in worry as the prince pulled out the first gift, the star gazer, which was a relatively inexpensive and somewhat thoughtless gift, or so they believed.

The princess’ reactions to the gifts were equally as perplexing. She didn’t seem the least bit put off, but rather provoked into curiosity. Her eyes were not so much on the gifts but now centered squarely on the prince. The fact the prince was getting this kind of response from her was quite surprising, but not as much as when he gave her the old, black lamp with a quiet whisper and she had pulled him to her in a fiery kiss for all to witness. The servants looked on at their prince before them, indulging in the princess’ affection, and shot glances of shock and relief at each other. For a man who didn’t like to be touched often, he didn’t seem the least bit put off by it. There was simply no explanation for any of it, but they were happy for their master all the same.

* * *

Princess Jasmine wished to be wedded to Prince Jafar as soon as preparations could be made. Because the prince was not allowed to be alone with the princess before they were married, the two often met in the lounge, playing crate and talking animatedly about things that made Jafar laugh like a maniac. Later on they became bolder in their displays of affection until one afternoon the Sultan caught Jasmine sitting on Jafar’s lap and the little man kindly demanded them to stop meeting until after the nuptials were made.

Before the wedding announcements went out, Prince Jafar was already integrating himself into the political landscape. Three days after his arrival, he met with the Grand Vizier Omar to discuss his cabinet. Prince Jafar met with the members of his council and afterwards nodded his approval of all of them except for one.

“The education adviser,” Jafar said. “I think I have a better candidate in mind.”

“A better candidate?” Omar questioned. “Who?”

“Princess Jasmine, of course.” Jafar scratched out the name on the staff list and put Jasmine’s in it’s place. “I have spoken extensively about this to her and she has refused to believe that I would be so bold. I do love a good surprise.”

“I think most of Agrabah would be surprised to find a woman on your council.”

“Time will dull the novelty, especially when results start producing smarter generations.”

“You have a lot of confidence in your bride.”

“And respect.”

“As do I,” Omar stated.

Jafar eyed him inquisitively before speaking. “I hope you don’t mind, but the princess has told me your story, which is why I have not bothered to contest the staff you have made without my input.”

“I figured she would. You both seem to have an unrivaled camaraderie, the likes of which I’ve never seen in two people who hadn’t met until three days ago.” Omar gave Jafar the same inquisitive glance, hesitating on his next words. “I used to think that if she had one wish, it was to ask for her father to become a motivated and smarter man. Now, I wonder if she would have rather wished you into existence.”

“I know about the genie,” Jafar replied. “There is no reason to hint around it.”

“Unbelievable, isn’t it? Yet I was there to witness the being for myself.” Omar pursed his lips, looking up to the ceiling in thought. “I know what her last two wishes were for I was there to witness her use them. I never found out what her first was, though the genie seemed to imply she was invincible.”

“How do you even know she made a first wish?” Jafar remarked. “By all accounts, no one even knew that she had any wishes left once the sorcerer came to steal the lamp.”

“Then why would he say she could not be killed?”

“It’s unlikely for the princess to ask for immortality, so I doubt that’s how she would use her first wish. Regardless, the fact that the Sultan is wiser and that she found someone to wed could all be merely circumstantial.”

“Quite a coincidence, if you ask me. But if you weren’t wished into existence, what drew you, a man who showed no interest in marriage, to Agrabah in the first place?”

“I am not a product of a wish and so let me put your doubts to rest,” Jafar said. “I didn’t pursue the princess earlier because I am older and not as ideal looking for a prince. As a woman in much demand for her beauty and intelligence, I doubted I could draw such a magnificent woman as Jasmine. But when I heard that she was seeking a prince of Parakesh, I came right away because I hated the thought of regretting never asking for her hand, for Jasmine was at the top of my list, unrivaled by any other.”

“List?”

“Oh,” Jafar replied, feigning embarrassment. “I kept a ranking list of all the princess’ of the five kingdoms. She, far and away, scored the highest.”

* * *

The year Jasmine was born was the year Omar was employed at the palace. Coming in as a first assistant to the minister of economics, he was befriended by then Prince Hamed, the only son of the Sultan of Agrabah. At first Omar felt a distaste for the immature and jaunty future sultan, though the playfulness and upbeat humor of the man somehow made it’s way into Omar’s good graces and suddenly the first assistant to the minister of economics was resolved to call him friend. What he found most intriguing was how Prince Hamed was so enamoured with his family, who he always placed ahead of anything or anyone else. It was a rare trait, not often seen within a royal family, that Omar greatly admired.

When Prince Hamed’s father began to grow ill, it was time for the prince to start forming his own administration of trusted advisers. He kept the current grand vizier his father already had, but made Omar his personal chief adviser so that when the time came for a new grand vizier, Omar was the most likely successor.

In the five years that followed, two very important events happened in Prince Hamed’s life. First was that his father died and Hamed became Sultan of Agrabah. Second was that the Sultana had died during childbirth leaving him with a young daughter to raise on his own.

The Sultana of Agrabah was headstrong but not unreasonable. She was known to be rather intelligent and with a sensible attitude about her. The fifteen years since her death, Omar had never felt that the secret son she had bore nor the locket she had given her husband ever fit in with her personal habits. To find out that it had all been fabricated by the magic of a genie was almost as much a relief to Omar as it was to Hamed.

Sultan Hamed had been so broke up over the death of his father and his wife that he was determined to keep his daughter safe from every harm he could imagine. Omar recognized early on, even perhaps earlier than Hamed, that Princess Jasmine was a girl unlike any other. She had somehow inherited all of her parents good traits and none of the bad, however even her parents were never as strong willed as the girl. She was smart and sensible like her mother, as well as good-natured and focused like her father, though her father preferred to focus on building giant models than listen to the criticisms of the public.

Omar had few interactions with Jasmine for she was a child and there were few reasons to cross paths. The several times Omar remembered being in the same room as the Princess was when she was in her mid teens, giving professional Crate players a run for their money. Once she reached an age to wed, Omar discovered that the bright child he recognized from before was now a grown women devoid of any meaningful relationships outside the one with her father. He had once asked Jasmine what kind of books she liked to read and she had arched a brow at him in suspicion. Sensing she was afraid of engaging in a verbal debate of his critique, he dropped the subject but went away understanding that her whole world was spent defending her own thoughts and actions. She had never found room for trust and was reluctant to allow it now.

Speaking with Hamed about his daughter only brought dark clouds in the bright moods he fought to maintain. There was no talking with a man too frightened of listening to reason. Omar was met with a brick wall and knew that Jasmine often ran up against it too.

Though Hamed signed the laws, Omar was the one who wrote and enacted them. He cared for his friend, but Hamed made it very difficult at times to progress the kingdom when the Sultan was too stuck in his ways. Years passed with as much development as Omar could muster.

Throughout it all, Omar had time to maintain his own family who he loved more than life itself. Blessed with a loving wife, two sons and two daughters, Omar saw all his children into adulthood, pleased when the four married into good families. His eldest daughter, who was three years older than Jasmine, married a bright, young man who was every bit as hard working and clever as Omar. His name was Marwan, who had recently become first assistant to the minister of defense, and he and Omar’s daughter were expecting a baby.

The most prestigious university in the kingdom of Agrabah was across the desert from the palace city and desperately in need of a professor to head the history department. Marwan, Omar’s son-in-law, was being scouted for the position. He would have accepted on the spot except that Omar bribed him to stay another year in Agrabah to rise further in the government and possibly have a future as a grand vizier. Omar had his own fears, namely that the university city was too far to frequently visit and his future grandbaby would grow up not knowing him. Later that year, Marwan and his wife had a baby girl, Omar’s first granddaughter, which only increased Omar’s desperation to have Jasmine marry a prince and install Marwan as chief adviser on the future sultan’s council. Without the position, Marwan was growing impatient and ready to accept the position at the university across the kingdom.

Omar never thought it would take so long for Jasmine to find a prince to wed. There was no shortage of suitors though her patience with each one ran out quicker than the previous. Omar didn’t know what to do until he saw her in the library one day with what looked like an illustration sent out from one of the five kingdoms. Running out of time, and knowing Jasmine would never simply answer his questions, Omar pretended to stumble into her research, therefore finding she had a ranking system for the Parakesh family. He didn’t have time to see which prince ranked the highest so he sent out a blanket call to the princes’, hoping the right one would come.

In further resentment, a homeless boy came to claim his position as the lost prince of Agrabah. This Prince Ali was not only suspicious but also looked and acted nothing like the former Sultana. Despite his arguments with the Sultan, Omar could not get Hamed to agree to investigate the boy as a fraud. The last thing he wanted was a thief to successfully infiltrate the palace and then find a way to exploit his position. When the Sultan gave the boy responsibility to help build a library, it was only lofting this possible criminal into a respectable honor, which would make It harder for him to be quietly ousted from the palace should the need arise. The only way to get the Sultan to listen to his pleas was to find any evidence that Aladdin was a fraud, which spurred Omar into sneaking through Aladdin’s room.

All this, Omar told Jasmine the day after Prince Jafar arrived. They sat down together in his office to discuss their actions and attitudes over the past few weeks and to finally have an understanding of each other’s motives. Jasmine sat quietly as he relayed his reasons and then asked for her forgiveness.

She mulled it over, not because she did not forgive him, but because she was overwhelmed with guilt about her false perceptions of him.

“It is I who should be asking for your forgiveness, Grand Vizier,” she said, continually using his title in atonement and respect. “I suspected you for no reason other than I don’t have the capacity to trust anyone.”

Omar gazed at her with a pursed frown. “Sometimes it is wiser to earn trust than to give it blindly.” He scooted a parchment across the desk to her. “I hope this will help in building a trust between us.”

Jasmine picked it up and read the proposal.

_Official adoption of Aladdin as a royal son of Sultan Hamed and as an ambassador to civilian welfare_

“Was this your idea?” Jasmine asked with a tick of a brow.

“As it has been proven that Aladdin has no blood lines to the royal family, there is no reason to allow him to reside in the palace. However, I thought it would be only right to appreciate the boy for at least trying to rescue us. After all, it is noticeable now how that boy has quite a pure heart.”

“It does indeed,” Jasmine answered.

“As for your father’s recent motivation to organize new committees, a spot opened up that I thought Aladdin would fit quite well in. He is very good with people and truly wishes them the best. A boy like him would be able to promote our new division of Civilian Welfare to help citizens in need.”

“Indeed, he would,” Jasmine agreed. “You do your job well, Grand Vizier. I am sorry that I have been a thorn in your side for so long. I only hope that your son-in-law has not already taken the position at the university.”

“As luck would have it, he was ready to send a message in acceptance yesterday afternoon until he heard about Prince Jafar’s arrival yesterday morning.”

“Well, that was quite fortunate. And I am glad Marwan is such a worthy choice or I would disapprove of this obvious form of nepotism.”

“This, coming from a monarchist?”

“Well stated. Please allow me to retract my foot out of my mouth.”

“No apology necessary. I am also glad Marwan is suitable or I would have many sleepless nights lying awake in shame. But really, I was being very selfish and don’t deserve this stroke of good luck.”

“You deserve all the luck in the world,” Jasmine said, rising in her seat. “You have been placed in a difficult position for much too long.”

“Your father has made it easier in the past few weeks,” Omar said, giving her an arch of his brow. “And yet it seems your future husband will be quite amenable to change as well.” He arched his brow even deeper. “It almost seems as though Prince Jafar was literally made for you.”

“We’ve all fallen into quite a bit of luck then, haven’t we?” Jasmine replied, ignoring his pry for the truth. “Speaking of Jafar, it’s time to meet him for lunch. Thank you for your time, Grand Vizier.”

* * *

The wedding was an enormous and blissful event. Having 42 brothers and 48 sisters, Jafar’s side of the aisle was packed with his family who came to the event in either two moods, great excitement or brooding resentment. It turned out that Jafar was popular among his many sisters, all who praised him for his honesty, appreciation, and maturity. Three reasons to adore Jafar and disdain half the other brothers.

Jafar was also beloved by his mother and the half of the brothers who were not total idiots. His father was not an emotional man, but they all knew Jafar was his favorite because he spoke of him as ‘the one who doesn’t disappoint’. Jasmine suddenly went from a family of two (plus an adopted brother) to a family of hundreds. She was immediately accepted into the fold, especially by the sisters, because she had chosen Jafar over the least liked members of the royal family.

The brothers who had been previously rejected by Jasmine as recently as a few months ago stewed in their resentment and questioned themselves on why she chose the older and uglier Jafar over them. They turned away in disgust when Jasmine and Jafar kissed as man and wife, unable to understand the adoration the princess gave to her prince husband.

During the wedding reception, Jafar’s only older brother, the future Sultan of Parakesh, came up and clapped his hand on Jafar’s shoulder with a slow shake of his head. “You have given me trouble, my brother,” the prince told Jafar. “Now I will have to look for someone else to be my future Grand Vizier, and there is no one who would have been more qualified than you."

The two kingdoms celebrated for days with feasts and fireworks. Jasmine and Jafar played their parts during the day, and at night they fell back into a routine they had only known when they were alone in a room.

On that first night, as soon as it was permissible, Jasmine pulled Jafar away from the festivities and back to their room that they now shared as husband and wife. She closed the door behind them and brought him to her, kissing him with a desperation that she had tried to still for the month that the wedding was being prepared.

“Jasmine,” Jafar said, trying to slow her movements. She was already unbuttoning his suit and pulling him closer to the bed. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Can’t it wait?” she asked as she slipped his white jacket off his shoulders and worked at his shirt.

“I’m…a man now.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” she answered, grabbing his wrists and bringing his hands up to her dress so that he can start pulling off her clothes..

“But as you’ve likely also noticed, I am not…” Jafar rolled his eyes to the ceiling in embarrassment. “Well, I have always been thin and bony.”

Jasmine paused in surprise. “You think I would prefer you as an over muscled red genie than an actual human man?” She grabbed his beard and pulled it to make him face her. “Don’t forget that I was both drawn to the personality of the genie and attracted to the picture of the second son. It leaves me in disbelief that I am getting both of the two things I desired most now combined into one.” When he smiled, she resumed her frantic need to get their clothes off.

“There’s something else,” he said.

“Oh my god, Jafar,” she replied, rolling her eyes and unbuttoning his pants. “I’ve been waiting an entire month for you. I simply cannot wait another minute longer.”

“This body has been magically produced and retroactively engaged through time at the moment of your wish. It has been waiting until the second I inhabited it which so happens to be the same age as I was when I died in my first life. In that time, this body took on my personality and made the same choices I would have made, but has ultimately been going through life as an empty vessel waiting for me to come back to it. It has known only two things, behave as I would, and learn everything.”

“What are you telling me?”

“In waiting for you, I intentionally never gave myself to another.”

Jasmine’s eyes went wide. “You’re a virgin?”

Jafar looked up to the ceiling again in chagrin. “_I _am not a virgin. _This body_ is.”

“That is so sweet…” Jasmine replied, pulling him in for appreciative kisses.

“I am telling you this because I wouldn’t mind taking credit for the thoughtfulness, and to also prepare you for disappointment. A woman as beautiful as you are, and as a man insanely attracted to more than just your body, we may have at best a few minutes before I am overwhelmed by you.”

“Oh, I don’t think we need that long,” Jasmine said as she resumed her ministrations. “The attraction is mutually comparable. All I need is…” She shoved his pants down and glanced at his cock before pausing in surprise a second time that night.

“What?” he asked, looking down at himself and finding nothing out of the ordinary.

She pointed at it with a skeptical look. “Is…is that still…genie sized?”

“It is man sized. It is exactly the same as before I was a genie.”

“Do they usually come that large?”

Jafar chuckled and drew her dress off her shoulders, letting the gown pool to the floor around her ankles. “No, they do not,” he said as he lifted her up and placed her naked on the bed. There was nothing to inhibit their explorations now. Once he finally filled her, slowly and gently, Jasmine was shocked to discover that everything she had thought it would be like was completely wrong. The sensation of him filling her didn’t seem localized to just her pelvis but also in her head and heart. They came together, simultaneously and for the first time in all their lives.

“I’m pretty sure that one made a child,” Jasmine said once she caught her breath. It incited Jafar’s laughter.

“But even if it didn’t, I have been waiting for you longer than you can imagine,” he replied, kissing her breasts. “This night has barely started.”

* * *

It turned out that Jasmine was correct. Conception was made on that night and a baby boy was born nine months later. And then a year later a baby girl. And then after that came two more boys, one more girl, a set of twins and then Jasmine told Jafar that he would need to start using his sorcery to prevent inception if he wanted to keep getting laid.

While parenthood was primary, their tasks to rule the kingdom was hardly secondary. They were both very dedicated to speeding up the progress that was so badly calling out for attention. Individually, Jasmine and Jafar were remarkable people, but together they were invincible. Agrabah was too big for one person to handle, but two exceptional people pushing in the same direction started the kingdom off with a steady shift, and decades later, when Jasmine and Jafar were ready to hand the work over to their children, the progression was rolling on it’s own. Even before they became Sultan and Sultana, they had jump started the kingdom’s prosperity in a way that set them on the path of historical relevance. Centuries after, they were noted as the reigning leaders of development, instigating and inspiring generations of people to come.

But one of the pervasive facts that ran through the kingdom is that the Sultan and Sultana relied on a very rare condition within a royal marriage that involved more than just political gain. They were in love, and everyone in the five kingdoms were aware of it. The citizens of Agrabah could boast that their Sultan and his wife not only committed themselves to bettering the kingdom but also committed themselves to each other. A love like that impressed upon the young couples in the land who learned to put effort into a relationship if they wished to rival the love between their rulers. Agrabah not only improved in civility but also maturity, and all it took was for Jafar and Jasmine to serve as an example.

* * *

For years, Omar wondered what Jasmine’s first wish had been. At one point he was so certain she had asked for the Sultan to gain enlightenment, but then Prince Jafar came into Jasmine’s life at the right time and that seemed a little too fortuitous. It wasn’t possible for Jasmine to have used more than one wish, or so he thought, because he had been witness to two of them.

Until one day, which happened to coincide with his last day as Grand Vizier, during a ceremony outside in the evening’s orange light, he was presenting his son-in-law Marwan as the man to take his place when he looked over at Sultan Jafar who stood with his head held high and his arms crossed as he watched in approval. The sunset cast a red glow that reflected on Jafar’s white robes, offsetting him enough to make him appear larger and of a reddish hue. Omar froze in surprise long enough that the guests surrounding him took notice and Jafar quirked a questioning brow at Omar. The former Grand Vizier retained his composure well enough to get through his speech and then take his place by Sultan Jafar’s side while Marwan delivered a speech of his own.

Jafar, being a foot taller than Omar, leaned over and whispered from the side of his mouth. “I thought you’d never figure it out. I hope you understand why we didn’t confirm your suspicions all those years ago.”

Omar was still in a state of shock. “But I never thought_ you _were_ the genie_. Dear Allah, how many lives have you lived?”

Jafar glanced at his wife with a smile. “This is my last one.”

* * *

The nights were still Jasmine’s favorite time. No matter where they were in the world, or what was happening in their lives, they always took a moment after the day to stop and spend a few hours together.

That night, Jasmine found Jafar out on the balcony, gazing out towards the dunes under the dark sky that was speckled with billions of stars. He was aging well, his beard still black despite his hair going gray. He insisted he wear his black and red robes when the white ones were not required. His snake staff was as much his companion as she was.

“Have the stars moved yet?” she asked.

“I often wonder what they will look like in four hundred years time,” he replied.

“You could find out.”

He turned to look at her with a smirk. “I would rather die by your side.”

“So you’ve said for the past twenty years. I’m beginning to believe you.” She noted his stare out across the desert and the melancholy that came with it. “Do you ever miss it?”

“In a way,” he answered, glancing back at her before returning his gaze towards the dunes where the Cave of Wonders was once hidden. “I made worlds inside a lamp, the likes of which no one could ever see or compare. Already sorcery is less prevalent now than it was in my first life that soon genies will be nothing more than fairy tales. Perhaps, I was the last one to have existed at all.”

“Then there was no one as lucky as I was to have stumbled upon your lamp. So much had to align for that to happen.”

Jafar shook his head and looked to her with a sigh. “It wasn’t luck at all. It was my wish.”

Jasmine cocked her head to the side, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. “Your wish? When you were a genie?”

“No, right before I was made into one. The magic to become a genie must start with a wish. I was locked into servitude and the key was the fulfillment of my wish.”

“But I wished you free. That was the key, wasn’t it?”

“Not entirely. As I was being cast down into the depths of hell by the many sorcerer’s of the Hamish kingdom, I harnessed that energy and made my wish; to know real truth and love so strong as to never be broken. Not just anyone could wish me free. My dear wife, you were four hundred years in the making. It took all that time for someone as rare and magnificent as you to exist in the world to free me, for you were the key all along.”

Jasmine stared at him for a moment before speaking. “That is the most romantic thing you’ve ever told me. Why in the name of all things holy are you telling this to me only now?”

Jafar chuckled and brought her into his embrace. “Habits of strategy. I parcel out the mystery of the genie so that I always have some way of keeping you invested in me.”

“How many other things have you not told me?”

“That was the last of them. I swear.”

“I have only lived one life and don’t have sorcery to rely on. How could I possibly keep you invested in me?” Jasmine asked half jokingly.

“Twenty years has not dulled the worship I have for you, my Sultana. Twenty more is but a fraction of what it would take. You are more than magic. You are fate.”

“We are definitely magic. You are my wish and I am yours. If life were a game, we would be practically cheating.”

“If life were a game, I most certainly have cheated, for I have played more than my fair share and won the ultimate prize.”

“Or perhaps you have simply perfected your strategy,” Jasmine said, “and I have perfected mine, for you are my prize and there is nothing greater.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, placing her head against his chest. “It’s not every day a woman is granted a genie husband who has made every wish of hers come true.”

He laid his cheek upon her head and smiled. “And it’s not every day a genie is granted a wish of his own, which makes you a magic more rare than the world has ever known.”

“It’s too bad people will never know of our amazing story.”

“Regardless of whether the truth will ever be known, we have made history and will be remembered long after we have passed. I am content with that.”

“I will only be satisfied if in our history one thing is known.”

Jafar leaned back to look in her eyes. “What would that be?”

“That our marriage was more than a political union between two kingdoms. I want historians to know foremost that I chose you and loved you and that is what gave us success.”

“It was more than that. You freed me and changed me and I crossed centuries to find you.” He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her face towards his. “It will be said that the greatest thing Sultan Jafar ever had was the love for his wife.”

Jasmine smiled and hummed in thought. “That statement would go well on your statue.”

“My what?”

“I commissioned a statue to be placed outside the courthouse. It will be unveiled next month on the day of your 20th year of freedom. Books can be lost but a statue is set in stone, persevering through time. It will be set under the stars, to watch them as they change, and it will look out over the desert where it will survive long after the Cave of Wonders is nothing more than a footnote. It will remind the citizens of the new era you have ushered in and there will be proclamations of your excellence, denouncing all those Sultans who came before you, with the exception of father, of course.”

Jafar stared wide-eyed at her. “What other things have you not told me?”

“That was the last of them,” Jasmine laughed, hugging him tightly around his waist. “I swear.”

He smiled and kissed her. “Thank you, my dear genie wife. You’ve made all my wishes come true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm usually verbose at the end of long fics because it's bittersweet. This time will be no exception.
> 
> I hope this chapter clarifies exactly how Jafar was the second son all along. There was some confusion how that could have happened. I had tons of scenes that I wanted to write but couldn't because I needed to make sure Jasmine never knew what Jafar looked like before he was a genie. At one point I wanted her to ask him to appear before her as he was as a man, and when he does she is skeptical about his height and asks if he was actually that tall or if he was embellishing. I also wanted them to dance with him as a man, but again, can't do that or she would recognize him as the second son.
> 
> There's a distinct lack of Aladdin in this last chapter. He's mentioned, but just in case anyone wants to know, he lives well in the palace, marries a patient woman who works in the library, learns to read, and develops an odd relationship with Sultan Jafar where they involve themselves into an escalating prank war.
> 
> It might seem strange that I decided to make Jafar popular among his sisters, but it only seemed right because Disney cannon suggests his twin sister actually adored him, at least enough to go through all the effort in raising him from the dead. I like the idea that Jafar and his sisters like to hang out and laugh together, so there you have it.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and kept my motivation alive! I am just a machine and feedback is the fuel. I suspect there are a lot of anonymous readers who I have not heard from and I hope that everyone knows I also appreciate each tick of a hit to this story. Thank you to the subscribers, the kudos-ers, and all those who kept coming back for each chapter.
> 
> But I especially want to thank those who commented and kept the writing spark going! Without you there wouldn't be an ending to this fic that started over a year ago. You have yourselves to thank for getting us all to this point of the epilogue.
> 
> And for the first time in a while, I'm not working on anything at the moment. If anyone has a one-shot J/J prompt that they might like fulfilled, I am taking requests!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who read this!


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